Wayfaring Stranger
by Atana
Summary: In this sequel to "Wizard's Oath", young Severus Snape must survive his dark night of the soul.
1. Default Chapter

Wayfaring Stranger   
  
A Snivellus/Marauders Story   
  
and Sequel to "Wizard's Oath"   
  
Written and Illustrated by Atana  
  
Snape and other HP characters belong to J. Rowling and not to me. Original characters, however, certainly do. To see the illustrations for this story, go to my Profile picture and click on the hyperlink. No slash, no sex. PG-13. Angst alert!  
  
------------------------------  
  
"I'm just a poor wayfaring stranger  
  
A-traveling through this world of woe.  
  
And there's no sickness, toil or danger  
  
In this bright world to which I go."  
  
- Traditional American folk song   
  
-------------------------------   
  
It was full darkness, and nobody had lit the lanterns in his Slytherin Tower bedroom because his roommates had not yet returned from vacation. It was just the way young Severus Snape liked it.  
  
If it were dark, no one could look at you.  
  
If it were dark, no one would laugh at you.  
  
If it were dark, no one would see what you were up to until it was too late.  
  
----------   
  
Lily Evans raced sobbing down the staircase from Slytherin Tower, one shoe untied. She needed to get to the Gryffindor common room as fast as she could.  
  
She tripped on one of the steps leading up to the Fat Lady's portrait, hitting her kneecap in that exquisitely sensitive place where the pain alone could make you want to vomit. She grabbed her knee, moaning and curling up on her side.  
  
"Lily!" Remus Lupin had cried. He had been on his way out, and now stooped down to help her. Her tearstained and swollen face frightened him.  
  
"Lily! What -- "  
  
"Help me up, Moony! Quick!"  
  
He had laced an arm under hers and pulled her up. She snuffled and reached down to touch the thin rivulet of blood making its way down her shin. She pulled her hand back with a little cry; it really hurt.  
  
"Lily! What on Earth is wrong? Tell me!"  
  
Lily looked into the boy's careworn face. "Snips Snape is in terrible trouble. I need to talk to an adult right away! Is Professor McGonagall about?"  
  
"No, she isn't. Tell me what happened!"  
  
"Help me, then! I need to find the Headmaster."  
  
"Shall I get James?"  
  
"No time! Let's go!"  
  
The two Gryffindor students hobbled back down the moving staircase.   
  
--------   
  
Severus had awakened from his brief nap sick to his stomach over his cruelty to Lily Evans.  
  
The pragmatist in him soon shrugged it off. You can't be friends with Lily without being friends with James. Snape knew that they would become a couple; it was obvious to anyone with half a brain who watched them together. It was just a matter of time.  
  
He groaned in heartbroken misery as warm tears coursed down his thin face. The Potters had been so kind to him. He had been so happy there. James Potter's mother had even taken pictures of them being friends and having fun. Who would have believed such a thing was possible for nasty skinny ugly Snivellus, the Dark arts brat who summoned demons when he was frightened instead of using his fists like a real man -- ?  
  
It was only fitting that James had tricked him, and then betrayed him. How easily the lies had poured from his lips! Of course the Marauders were meant to humiliate and hurt him, like they always had.  
  
James Potter should never have let a Dark creature into the House of Light in the first place. It had been an abomination, and now it had been purged. Cast out.  
  
Even Lily had believed James and Severus were friends. Poor deluded Lily, who had left Slytherin Tower in tears --!! Severus had been undeserving of such kindness, such goodness. The girls with beautiful souls and kind smiles would have nothing to do with greasy gits like him.  
  
There wouldn't be a beautiful and kind girl for him, of course. The only one Severus had ever been blessed with had transferred to Beauxbatons. It hadn't been her idea, of course, and she hadn't wanted him left alone once again. But a year had come and gone and he hadn't received any messages from her. Not a single one.  
  
Martis --!   
  
------------   
  
Unable to get up, Severus now lay curled up on a jumbled mess of bedcovers. He hadn't eaten anything in a while; perhaps that was the reason for his lethargy. He couldn't stop crying and shivering beneath the worn-out robe that had once been his father's.  
  
The bastard. May he burn in Avernus after the Dementors had sucked the soul out of him!  
  
Severus thought about something he'd once read. After the end of the Muggle World War II, there had been a group of Nazis who had refused to surrender. And just as the Allies thought they'd closed in on them and caught them, they had bitten into little capsules hidden on their persons and died. All their enemies would end up with was a bunch of nasty corpses instead of live captives who could be tortured.  
  
Cyanide, though, had been a bit too savage for Severus. Being Professor Sartoris' best student had its uses. He had learned that there were other combinations that were just as deadly but were more -- well, civilized.  
  
Wiping his eyes and rolling on his back, Sev remembered his last visit home and sighed deeply, hot tears pooling around his ears.  
  
His father had beaten him badly his first evening home over something he'd said, or hadn't said, or whatever. It hadn't mattered. Finding excuses for beating up your son didn't matter, either. It wasn't as if anyone was going to question Confutatis Maledictis Snape about his motives, anyway!  
  
A family is only as sick as its secrets --  
  
The Snape family had its fair share, too. His stupid mother had spent the entire next day working over him with her stupid poultices and her stupid spells, trying to fix Sevie all up so no one would ever know that she allowed her husband to torture her own son.  
  
There's nothing wrong here, but don't tell anyone --  
  
There was surely nothing wrong in having a secret stash of Dark arts paraphernalia in Snape Manor. It had been well hidden from outsiders, to keep those Ministry of Magic fools off balance. Severus knew about them. He had always worked with them, of course, in keeping with his father's desire for his son to follow in his footsteps as an acolyte of the Dark one. His father had not, however, shown Severus where such items were stored.  
  
But Sev had found out. If you crept around silently so that your father didn't hear you, you could find out all sorts of things.  
  
The evening of the day after that particular beating, Sev had half-walked, half-crawled down the stairs over to a trunk covered with chased leather and intricate brass hardware. He whispered the proper incantation, and then opened it.  
  
Smiling, he had drawn out a small silver bottle stoppered with a carved onyx top. He had slipped it into his pocket and had dragged himself back upstairs. By the time he'd found his way back to bed, several of his bandages were soaked with blood.  
  
The poor child had lain there bleeding as he had held the bottle in his hands, letting the moonlight play over its metallic surface. The moonlight had been beautiful, but had been as cold as his heart had felt that night.  
  
Severus hadn't summoned up enough courage to actually drink its contents that evening. Instead, he had tucked the small bottle into the pocket of his only pair of leggings and had carefully hidden it away once he had reached Slytherin Tower.  
  
Realizing that his roommates wouldn't be back for a few hours at least, Severus had finally sat up and now sat on the edge of his bed, bare legs dangling.  
  
He smiled a secret smile for he knew the bottle was right there, right there in its secret spot, just waiting for him. 


	2. The Lost Boy

Chapter 2 – The Lost Boy  
  
Albus Dumbledore was on his way down the corridor from his office when Lily Evans tripped and fell right into his arms.  
  
"Catch her!" Remus Lupin shouted.  
  
The Headmaster caught the girl and straightened her up. "What is the matter, Miss Evans?" he asked. He had never seen Lily in such a state.  
  
"It's Severus Snape, sir," she panted. "Something is terribly wrong with him. Please come now!"  
  
As they ran, Lily told Dumbledore about what had happened at the Potters' home, and what Severus had said to her upon his return to Slytherin Tower. "It's like he's lost his wits – I don't know! He said horrible things to me! I'm sure he didn't mean them!"  
  
Dumbledore did not share his own recollections about getting the seriously depressed boy out of his slump some months ago. Simple care – seeing that he ate, kept himself clean, and went to classes – had gone a long way with Severus. Albus had also supported him with encouragement and love. And now, to see all that effort spoiled! Damn that Sirius Black. The Headmaster had trusted him and believed him.  
  
Maybe Lily had been mistaken about what had happened. It was best to gather one's facts first, and then draw one's conclusions from those facts.  
  
On their way, Dumbledore had sent Remus running for Professor Sartoris, whom he'd fetched from the Potions Lab in the dungeons. And now the four of them burst through the door of Slytherin Tower (Dumbledore had sufficient status so that a password wasn't necessary).  
  
Professor Penderdandis, who had been poking at the fire burning sluggishly in the fireplace, looked up at them.  
  
"What in –? "he managed to gasp.  
  
"Quickly," Headmaster Dumbledore wheezed, wishing that apparation were permitted in the Castle. "We have reason to believe Severus is in trouble."  
  
"He was supposed to meet with me a little while ago," Penderdandis replied, gesturing for them to follow him. "I was just going to go in and get him. I've only come just now from my holiday in Bristol. He had some sort of argument with Miss Evans here, and I asked him to see me about his attitude and unkempt demeanor."  
  
"Attitude and demeanor may be the least of our troubles, I fear," Dumbledore sighed. "Miss Evans, kindly fetch Madame Pomfrey just in case we need her."  
  
The three wizards tried the door; it had been locked. With an oath and a cry of "Alohamora", Penderdandis opened it.  
  
The men raced in, then stopped. The room was completely dark, with all the curtains drawn. "Lumos," cried Albus Dumbledore, and a strong beam of light illuminated the room. They looked around them.  
  
"Severus?" Dumbledore shouted. "Severus! Are you here?"  
  
Sartoris ran around to the other side of the boy's bed and nearly tripped over the body slumped on the floor. "Gods," he gasped, picking up Severus and dragging him onto the bed. "Mr. Lupin! Do you know what a bezoar is?"  
  
"Yes, sir! It's from an animal's stomach – a ruminant, I think. It absorbs poisons!"  
  
"That's right. There are several on my desk. Run as fast as you can and fetch one. Go!"  
  
Lupin was off like a shot.  
  
"I'm having trouble opening his jaws," Sartoris panted, trying to work his fingers past Severus' clenched teeth. "It's due to the seizures."  
  
"What seizures, man?" Penderdandis hissed, horrified and ashamed that one of his charges had gone so utterly to rack and ruin in his absence.  
  
"The – bottle – on the floor," Sartoris gasped.  
  
Penderdandis stooped to pick it up.  
  
"Don't touch it!" Sartoris hissed. "It's a caustic, whatever it is."  
  
Remus Lupin, red-faced from effort, slapped a stomach stone on the bed. Sartoris gave one final effort and suddenly pried past Severus' teeth. He shoved the bezoar under the boy's burned tongue.  
  
"Gods, please help this child!" Penderdandis murmured.  
  
"A poison, then," Albus said, his voice ragged. "Are we too late?"  
  
"I – don't know. I need something soothing for his throat – milk, perhaps."  
  
Within seconds, the Headmaster had transfigured a nearby pitcher of water into milk and handed it to the Potions Master. Sartoris dumped it into Snape's mouth, hoping that his esophagus hadn't swelled shut.  
  
Dumbledore came around him and laid his hands on either side of the boy's temples. He poured in so much healing energy that Sev's entire body jerked. The Headmaster began to chant in a low voice – whether it was a prayer or a spell, the other men weren't sure.  
  
At last, Severus began to cough, spraying Sartoris with milk. "Hells! It won't go down," the professor said, beginning to stream his own healing energy into his student.  
  
Severus' coughing abruptly stopped, and an awful strangled gasping took its place.  
  
"His windpipe is swelling shut as well, Albus," Sartoris cried. "Do either of you have a knife? I need to keep that bezoar under his tongue!"  
  
Sev's face was blue and his eyes rolled back in his head.  
  
Sartoris grabbed a water glass and transfigured it into a flexible tube. A knife was slapped into his outreached hand. "Hold him down, Albus," the Potions Master asked. Once the boy was secured, Sartoris made a slit right at the base of the child's throat.  
  
Though deeply unconscious at best, the boy felt the pain and fought it. "No, Severus," Sartoris whispered, locating the delicate edges of his windpipe and easing the tube down several inches. "You just hold on, my young friend, because I am going to fix you up."  
  
The boy's body thrashed against the unwanted intrusion, but his starved lungs expanded with the new supply of air provided by the impromptu tracheotomy.  
  
"That's a good boy," the old Potions Master whispered, sweat dripping from his face.  
  
Albus touched Sev's forehead with a calming charm and his body relaxed. "Poppy's on her way," Dumbledore said. "Let me have him." The Headmaster sat on the edge of the bed, pulling the unconscious boy onto his lap. He saw the burns on the child's swollen lips and held him tightly.  
  
"Oh my poor child. My poor boy. We all let you down this time. I'm so sorry."  
  
He bent his head over the Slytherin and rocked him gently. Penderdandis and Sartoris were both shocked to see tears splatting onto the boy's robe. Neither had ever seen the Headmaster cry before.  
  
"Go and see what's keeping the girl and the nurse, will you?" Sartoris asked. The Slytherin Head of House darted out of the room.  
  
Dumbledore kept a hand on the boy's chest so that he could continue to send energy sufficient to save him from whatever awful concoction he'd ingested. He watched as Sartoris picked up the bottle with a handkerchief and sniffed it. He then wrapped it up carefully and placed it upright in his pocket.  
  
"Most of it spilled out onto the floor," the Potions Master said gravely. "My guess is that Severus took the first sip and felt his lips and tongue burning. Anyone would reflexively toss something that utterly nasty away from them."  
  
"Will he live?"  
  
"Unknown. I need to analyze this before I can prepare the antidote. The bezoar will help for now."  
  
"Leave now and begin."  
  
Turning to obey his Headmaster, Sartoris was nearly run over by Madam Pomfrey and Professor Penderdandis, who had made sure Lily stayed in the common room with Remus.  
  
"He's poisoned himself, Poppy. A caustic. I opened his airway. Esophagus is blocked and may be burned. Be careful," the man blurted out as he ran from the room.  
  
Noticing the two upset children sitting before the meager fire, the Potions Master said, "Mr. Lupin, run and fetch Professor Sprout and bring her to the Potions Lab. She can help us identify the poison if it's a botanical. Come with me now, Miss Evans. You will assist me in my preparation of the antidote. Your friend has taken poison, and it was only your speed in bringing help that might give him a chance."  
  
Two newly arrived Slytherin students overheard, and now stood in horror.  
  
----------------  
  
The boy lay across the Headmaster's lap; his face slack, lips and gums swollen. Dumbledore supported his body and held onto his limp hand. He was careful not to disturb the thin tube that protruded from the base of his throat.  
  
Albus Dumbledore had lived a very long time and he knew a great many things he never shared with others. He had come close to death several times, and knew it fairly well. Right now, he sensed that Severus was in between death and life.  
  
So be it, then, Dumbledore thought. I will join him there. He bowed his head and let his mind slip away from him.

-----  
  
_I petition the White Lady to not take this child, this child given the wrong life and the wrong ways, this precious child who knows Your Darkness intimately but is not meant for that Darkness. Dark Crone, do not take this child to Your breast, for he is needed here. Grant him the right to live._

But he has given Me his life freely, wizard.

_And he is still a child, not yet lived. I beg of You to stay Your hand from his soul. Lady of Phantoms, this child is a victim - he had never learned to fight back or to control his own life. He still has no idea he can control his own life._

And that Life is slipping away, into My hands. He wanted peace.

_He is not yet done with this Life, Dark One, and You know it._

-----

Albus Dumbledore sighed deeply, his mind rushing back to this small room in a castle in Scotland. Tears ran down his old face.  
  
My poor Severus.  
  
Over and over again, the Headmaster sent the boy the same message, like the bright searching beam of a lighthouse beacon ready to guide him back from the land of souls:  
  
_ I love you my son come home  
  
I love you my son come home  
  
I love you my son come home_  
  
------------  
  
"I've got it," Professor Sprout announced. _Euphorbia resinifera_, from _Euphorbiaceae_, the Spurge family. It excretes a sort of resin – parts of the plant are useful as emetics, while others cause burns to the face, lips, mouth, throat, esophagus, or stomach. It can also cause temporary blindness. Hateful stuff – burns you from the inside out. Death is usually from suffocation when the trachea swells shut."  
  
"I'm on it," the Potions Master murmured as he combined the contents of several vials. He then strained the liquid through a fine mesh cloth, then bottled and labeled it. He grabbed a syringe as Severus was unable to swallow.  
  
It had taken the two teachers less than ten minutes to prepare an antidote. Whether it was too late to do Severus any good, neither knew. All four raced to Slytherin Tower to find out.  
  
-----------  
  
Poppy Pomfrey had done her best to treat the internal and external burns. The bezoar had apparently neutralized the worst of the poison.  
  
"Today is not your day to die, my poor child," Dumbledore whispered, stroking the boy's long hair back off his face. "You need to come home now. Come home to me, Severus."  
  
"Albus," Poppy said, "I – I think it would be best if we got Mr. Snape to St. Mungo's as soon as possible. The poisoning is one problem. His trying it again is another. He needs to be hospitalized and put on suicide watch until we can find a way to help him."  
  
Sartoris walked in with the antidote in a needle, and carefully injected it into the boy's arm.  
  
------------  
  
There was a commotion, and loud voices were heard outside.  
  
James Potter had followed a first-year Slytherin into the common room and was arguing with a fifth-year who questioned his reason for entering. After the bluster had died down, Lily and Remus saw that James was crying.  
  
"What's Snape done?" he asked them.  
  
Lily instinctively went over to him, guiding him to a couch and sitting close to him, her hand on his. "Severus came back here and tried to kill himself, James. He drank poison."  
  
James covered his face with his hands and wept. "It's my fault. I should have gotten rid of the Marauders when they showed up. But I didn't. And because I didn't, I lost Severus as a friend. If he dies – well, that's my fault as well."  
  
Lily cradled his head and rocked him gently back and forth. Remus sat on his other side and placed his hand on the sobbing boy's shoulder. "I don't think it's your fault, James," he said. "Severus has been very troubled for a long time. The beatings at home had a lot to do with it. Of course, our pranks only made it worse. When Martis was here, Sev could at least handle it. They were Snips and Spirals then, a team. And didn't they give us a run for our money? When she left, though, it was almost like his heart went out of him. But we kept on like before. It was too much for him."  
  
James moaned. "I knew Sev was over here because he returned my sweater. I didn't even bother to come over and check on him."  
  
"What sweater?"  
  
"A present my parents gave him. He really loved it and was proud to wear it and he gave it back because my idiot friends told him he wasn't welcome. That he wasn't welcome – in MY home!"  
  
Lupin sighed. "Why don't you go ahead and name his name, Prongs? It was Sirius. I think he was jealous since you hadn't invited him home with you in quite a while. It was Sirius who drove Sev away."  
  
"And I went along with it by not standing up to him. And now the kid's going to die and it's entirely my fault."  
  
Lily continued to hold James. By that time, all three were crying over the sad fate of the Slytherin boy.  
  
"Can I see him?" James snuffled.  
  
"I don't know," Remus said. "Let me check."  
  
He entered the stuffy bedroom and observed the Headmaster holding Sev on his lap. He was singing or chanting to him. The boy didn't look asleep. He looked dead.  
  
"Yes, Mr. Lupin?" Madam Pomfrey said in her usual snappish way.  
  
"James Potter wants to see Severus," the boy said.  
  
"Absolutely not!" the nurse replied.  
  
"Hold a bit, Poppy," Albus said. "He might help guide Severus back to us. Tell him he can come in, but he can't act upset. That would only frighten Severus. If he's calm, Mr. Potter can come in."  
  
Lupin nodded and left.  
  
Within a few moments, James came in with Lily and Remus. His eyes were red and his nose was stuffy, but there were no tears at the moment.  
  
Albus Dumbledore nodded. "Remember – calm and easy. Talk to him, Mr. Potter."  
  
James came up and picked up the boy's limp hand. He looked into Sev's swollen and burned face and bit his lip. "Sev, this is James," he began. "I'm so sorry about what happened. And I was wrong. Please come back. Come back and my mother will bake us another Pig Cake."  
  
Lily and Remus exchanged puzzled looks.  
  
"We can eat Pig Cake and play Quidditch, how would you like that? And the Marauders won't be there, I promise."  
  
Severus' face twitched slightly.  
  
"Can he hear me?" James said to Dumbledore.  
  
"I expect he can. Bring him back, Mr. Potter."  
  
"Sev – I'm your friend, whether you agree or not. So are Lily and Remus. We want you to come back and be with us again when you get well. If you can hear me, Sev, give my hand a squeeze, all right?"  
  
All looked down to see two of Sev's fingers moving slightly. Albus lay his hands on the boy's temples and infused a stream of healing energy.  
  
"All right, children," Poppy said quietly. "We'll help him from this point."  
  
The three friends – Lily and James holding hands – gave the Slytherin boy one last look. Each took a turn smoothing his hair or patting his limp arm. They turned and went through the door and into the common room, where they were surrounded by Sev's housemates asking them what had happened.  
  
Lucius Malfoy had pushed his way through the crowd. His aristocratic eyes were slitted, his jaw jutted. "You didn't manage to kill him the first time in the Forbidden Forest. Did you feel the need to push him over the edge over the holidays? Great bloody work. You bastards have one hell of a nerve coming in here. Now get out."  
  
Surprisingly, none of the three Gryffindor students had anything to say in return. They silently went out the door.  
  
Malfoy kicked it shut behind them.  
  
-------------  
  
Professors Sartoris and Penderdandis – rivals and standoffish colleagues at best – now stood shoulder to shoulder to see what they could do. Hesitating slightly, both laid their hands on the child in Dumbledore's lap and sent healing energy into him. Severus twitched again and moved his head.  
  
"I don't think he'll come back to us today," Albus said. "I think he's very tired. If you two gentlemen will go through Mr. Snape's trunk and pick out some clothes and toiletries, we'll get him to St. Mungo's right away."  
  
-------------  
  
The Slytherin common room was packed with returning students, all shocked at the news of Snape's suicide attempt. Quite a few of them stood crying. Their voices dropping off one by one, all stood and silently watched as the adults came out of the bedroom. The Headmaster carried Snape, who was wrapped in a blanket.  
  
"Good luck," several of them whispered, touching the Dark child's hand or foot as they passed by. One or two would later swear that they heard the Headmaster say, "I love you my son, come home" over and over in a soothing voice.  
  
"When you come back, Snips," Lucius Malfoy said quietly, "I'm sure you'll figure out who your true friends are."


	3. St Mungo's

Chapter 3 - St. Mungo's  
  
"I know dark clouds will gather 'round me  
  
I know my way is rough and steep  
  
Yet beauteous fields lie just before me  
  
Where God's redeemed their vigils keep."  
  
- Poor Wayfaring Stranger  
American traditional song  
  
--------------  
  
Professors Sartoris and Penderdandis accompanied Albus Dumbledore to St. Mungo's, widely regarded as the finest medical facility in the Wizarding world. The still-unconscious Severus Snape had been assigned to a bed in what Muggles would call the psychiatric ward.  
  
"My name is Asphora LaChance," said the intake counselor, who had just come back from observing Severus and getting him settled in. She was young with a silver puff of hair surrounding her delicate face. "It is my usual custom to taste the aurae of those who bring our patients in to see us. Mr. Dumbledore, you have an astounding aura," she said. "Full and florid and robust. I sensed glimmers of it in Severus. You have undoubtedly influenced the young man."  
  
"For good, I trust," Albus said.  
  
"Indeed. And Mr. Penderdandis – yours is more on the utilitarian side. A rather hardy aura, I would say. On the other hand," she continued, now looking at Sartoris, "you have a rather poisonous one."  
  
Professor Sartoris was thunderstruck. "How dare you!" he spat.  
  
"Shall we continue?" Albus said, trying to smooth over his professor's ruffled feelings yet filing her observation away in his mind for later contemplation. He turned once again toward Healer LaChance. Her eyes gave him a funny little signal. He would have to speak with her later about it, without a doubt.  
  
"Let me see if I understand the situation. The young man in question – "  
  
"Severus," Dumbledore said.  
  
"Severus, of course – had suffered an episode of depression earlier this year. He seemed to come out of it with your help, Mr. Dumbledore? Then, he suffered some sort of social setback with friends over the Yule and New Years holidays, which precipitated his suicide attempt. Am I correct?"  
  
Dumbledore nodded. He was trying to decide whether Asphodel (or whatever her name was) used a charm to make her hair stand up the way it did. He personally did not care for it.  
  
"I would like to ask you a number of questions. Anyone with knowledge can answer. The questions involve the behavior of someone who is depressed enough to attempt suicide. Shall we begin?" she said, picking up a quill.  
  
"Has Severus experienced a change in sleeping habits?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Has Severus experienced a change in eating habits?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Have his grades gone down, or has he stopped going to class?"  
  
"He had, yes."  
  
"Has Severus neglected his personal appearance?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Has he become isolated socially?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Has he had trouble getting along with others?"  
  
"Definitely. It appears to be an ongoing problem for him."  
  
"Has he shown extreme sensitivity to rejection?"  
  
"Yes – when some students he did not like came to the house where he was spending the Yuletide."  
  
"What did he do, Mr. Dumbledore? Or is it Professor?"  
  
"Professor will be fine, although my administrative duties keep me from enjoying a classroom these days. He summoned a demon."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"A demon. He summoned a demon."  
  
"Oh dear. I trust that is not a talent encouraged at his school."  
  
"You are very correct. I believe his father taught him."  
  
"Aha. Has he experienced stress at home lately?"  
  
"Severus is an abuse survivor, Healer LaChance," Albus solemnly stated. "His abuser – his father -- is now in Azkaban."  
  
"Good place for him. And does Severus have a good relationship with his mother?"  
  
"I think not," Albus continued. "She witnessed years of systemic abuse and did next to nothing. She also spent the Yuletide in the Mediterranean instead of spending it with him."  
  
"In other words, Mr. – excuse me – Professor Dumbledore – his mother has abandoned him."  
  
"I think that is correct," the Headmaster said, nodding.  
  
"Has Severus shown an overreaction to sounds, motions, and the like?"  
  
"He practically jumps out of his skin at loud noises and hates it when people get too close to him or touch him."  
  
"Has he ever mentioned suicide, even in jest or in passing?"  
  
"No," said Penderdandis.  
  
Sartoris shook his head.  
  
"Yes," sighed Albus. "Yes, he did – earlier this year. He said that his housemates wouldn't appreciate his slitting his wrists because of the mess it would leave."  
  
Healer LaChance blinked at him. There was silence in the room for an uncomfortable amount of time.  
  
"Gentlemen, I have asked you ten questions. All of them are warning signs of severe depression at the least and suicidal tendencies at the most. You have answered all of them in the positive. May I speak frankly?"  
  
"By all means," Albus said, knowing what was coming.  
  
"This child could have written 'Help me, I'm going to kill myself' across his forehead in Muggle day-glo spray paint and none of you would have taken the trouble to read it."  
  
"You certainly speak your mind," Sartoris said frostily.  
  
"I know no other way to be," Healer LaChance said. "Our stakes are too high on this ward. We forego the euphemisms here. We forego the excuses. We forego the blaming. We forego any behaviors that do not get to the truth involving our patients. We deal with children who want to die when living should be their greatest joy."  
  
The three men sat, silent and contemplative.  
  
"It is far easier to build boys than to repair men, gentlemen."  
  
"Indeed," said Professor Penderdandis. "This is a fine boy who has seen far too much evil, darkness, and pain. We cannot get in touch with his mother at the moment. Though we are but his teachers, we are taking the lead here and want Severus to get better and find some measure of satisfaction and happiness in his life. What can we do for him?"  
  
"Bringing him here was an excellent first step," Healer LaChance said, her attitude softening a bit. "As much as you wanted to help your young man some months ago, Professor Dumbledore, it is not a job for amateurs, or people who are emotionally close to a depressed child."  
  
Albus sighed. "So – it seems that Severus perked up around me because he wanted to please me – not because he felt any better."  
  
"Probably," she said. "Well, there is no doubt that this young man has been depressed for a long while, probably for years. He has been abused and abandoned by those who should have been his greatest protectors. He cannot get along with his classmates because he never learned how. He has even tried to show his teachers the magnitude of his distress – summoning a demon is probably the most extreme reaction to stress I've ever heard."  
  
"He did it twice, actually. Once in the Great Hall during dinner. Fortunately, I was able to dispel the entity before any harm was done."  
  
Healer LaChance bit her lip. "He has repeatedly tried to show his teachers the magnitude of his distress, then. Had any of you considered the possibility that the young man's life might be out of control, or that medical care might be needed?"  
  
The three esteemed professors looked at their shoes like miscreant schoolboys.  
  
"Well, he is here at last," the healer sighed. "Again, forgive my frankness, but I work with children who try to kill themselves because their pain is too great to bear. Sometimes they live, and sometimes they don't. As teachers, all of you should have seen these danger signs. You might consider educating your staff before one of your students' ignored cries for help lead to his or her death."  
  
"Of course," Albus said. "Sometimes we become so busy and so preoccupied with the minutiae of our daily routines that we lose sight of such things – and we shouldn't."  
  
"Let me tell you what we intend to do for Severus. Let us have him for the next month. He'll work with a number of healers, me included. We will give him counseling, recreation, good food, fresh air, and sunshine. Who among you would be the closest to Severus, emotionally?"  
  
"The Headmaster," Sartoris said.  
  
"That is correct," Albus added. "I have taken him under my wing, so to speak, although it's now apparent that I've thoroughly bungled the job."  
  
"Ah! You are the Headmaster of his school, then. Don't be too hard on yourself – any positive attention paid to these heartbroken children is better than none. Now, tell me why the Headmaster of a school with hundreds of children chose to focus on this particular child?"  
  
"Severus is special. He has a great soul. He has withstood horrors and darkness that would have broken most students. I want him to have a better life than he has so far." Albus did not elaborate on the prophecy involving Severus which lay in the most protected part of the Ministry of Magic. "I – admire him, in short. And Severus has latched onto me – his own father was a tragic disappointment."  
  
The healer gazed at Dumbledore, letting her inner eye browse over his aura for any deception, any ulterior motive. Satisfied, she sat back in her chair. "I would like you here for at least portions of the next few days. Is that a possibility?"  
  
"Of course," Dumbledore said.  
  
"And you two gentlemen will try to contact Severus' mother in the meantime? I need to speak with her as well."  
  
"Certainly," Professor Penderdandis said.  
  
At that moment, a young wizard came in and whispered in Healer LaChance's ear.  
  
"Thank you, Philby. Gentlemen – it seems that our patient is waking up."  
  
------------  
  
The four made their way down a winding stairway and across a brightly-lit roomful of patients, most of who did little more than sit and blink and gaze into space. Albus shuddered, sensing massive amounts of hopelessness and misery in the room.  
  
They swept around a corridor. Healer La Chance motioned them into a room on their right.  
  
The room had six beds, three of which were occupied by children and adolescents of various ages. The three professors spotted Severus right away. Another healer stood beside his bed, his hand on his patient's. Albus could feel the energy pouring from him into the sick boy.  
  
"I will leave you here," Asphora LaChance said. "This is Sib Hammer."  
  
Albus was the first to reach the bedside. He leaned over Severus, whose breathing tube had been removed and his throat healed.  
  
"You were able to unblock his esophagus as well?" Sartoris asked the healer.  
  
"We did. We've seen this particular poison used before. Its use can indicate very strong self-hatred – it isn't enough that the child simply dies. With this potion, he or she also suffers."  
  
"I wonder where he got it," Penderdandis said, frowning. He darted a glance at Professor Sartoris.  
  
"Its ingredients are not stocked at Hogwarts, I can assure you," the Potions Master snapped.  
  
"Never mind that now," Albus said. "May I?" he said to the healer, gesturing toward his hands. Upon the healer's nod, Albus placed both hands on the sick boy's temples. "Come home, son," he whispered, pulsing quiet healing energy into him.  
  
Severus' eyes fluttered. He had been put into a deep healing sleep upon his arrival, and it took some time to come out of it.  
  
"Severus," Albus whispered, stroking his cheek. "Severus. Come back to us. We're waiting for you."  
  
The child began to shudder and twitch. The healer standing beside him dropped his head and streamed more healing energy into him.  
  
"Cruciatus," he said by way of explanation. And he's suffered this curse before."  
  
"Who would curse a child in such a manner?" Penderdandis whispered.  
  
"There are a lot of monsters out there, sir," the healer said. "We've seen worse. Who was the culprit here?"  
  
"His father," Sartoris answered.  
  
Severus relaxed a little. His eyes fluttered; he was clearly trying to do what Albus had asked him to do.  
  
"Come home, Severus," Dumbledore whispered again, taking the boy's hands in his own.  
  
Finally, the boy's eyes opened. He looked around him, eyes darting from the healer to his professors to his headmaster.  
  
"Welcome back, Severus," Healer Hammer said. "We're very happy to see you. Don't be afraid if your throat hurts. That will heal very soon."  
  
The boy tried to speak. His young brow furrowed with the effort. "Wh – "  
  
"Talk to us, Severus," Dumbledore said, holding the boy's still-limp hands.  
  
"Wh – why – am – I – "His face reflected his frustration.  
  
"Take your time," the healer said.  
  
"Why – am – I – st -- still – alive?"  
  
The boy burst into tears, his hands pulling away from Dumbledore's to cover his face.  
  
"Severus," Albus crooned. "It's all right. We're all here to comfort and help you."  
  
The boy shook his head, face still hidden by hands.  
  
"The only thing you have to worry about is getting better," Professor Penderdandis said. "Don't worry about school just now, either."  
  
"The Potions Lab will be there waiting for you when you return," Professor Sartoris said.  
  
"I wanted to die," Severus said in a hoarse voice, his throat still quite sore. "Why didn't you just let me go?"  
  
"It's not your time, Severus," Albus said. "There are important things you must do later on in life. You wished to die, but as you can see the Fates have intervened and saved you."  
  
"Damn it," the boy whispered. "I can't take any more. I don't want to live, and I hate you all for bringing me back."  
  
The healer touched his forehead to give the boy some healing energy. Severus batted his hand away.  
  
"Leave me the hell alone," he said. "All of you."  
  
The healer nodded at the three men. "Which of you is closest to Severus?"  
  
Again, Dumbledore nodded.  
  
"Fine. You stay and the rest of you can wait outside."  
  
The healer than positioned himself so that Severus couldn't see him. Albus took a chair and took one of the child's hands away from his face. He resisted, but finally allowed Dumbledore to hold his hand.  
  
"I am not going to leave you," the Headmaster said. "I care about you and I don't want you to die. I will help you get through this, Severus, and when you get better, you can come back to Hogwarts. Things will be different, I promise you that."  
  
"Where am I, Headmaster?" Sev said, tears still rolling down his face.  
  
"You're at St. Mungo's," Dumbledore said. "You'll stay here a little while and they will help you feel better. Don't give up hope, Severus. Please don't give up hope. You are still with us for a reason."  
  
"And what reason is that? To give the Marauders somebody to torment? To give my father someone to curse and beat up when he's released from Azkaban?"  
  
"No," said Albus.  
  
"Does anybody know that I'm here?"  
  
"Most likely the whole school by now, Severus. After drinking the poison, you lost consciousness and then you lost your ability to breathe. Professor Sartoris cut into your throat and fashioned a breathing tube. He held a bezoar under your tongue, and also made an antidote to the poison you had in the bottle. Where did it come from, my boy? Please tell me."  
  
"I took it from -- my father. He had beaten me up really bad the last time I was home, and I wanted to die then. But I couldn't summon the courage to do it."  
  
"And so you brought it to school with you."  
  
The boy nodded. "When James Potter tricked me, I thought about the bottle again. I felt so stupid and gullible that I didn't think I was fit to live any longer."  
  
"But James Potter hadn't tricked you. He told me that it had all been Sirius Black's idea, and that he had been horrified at what happened to you there."  
  
Severus shook his head, tears still trickling down the sides of his face. Albus took out a handkerchief and gently dabbed in front of his ears. "They all tricked me. None of them are my friends. I'm sorry, Headmaster, but I can't believe you."  
  
"Your choice of friends is yours and yours alone, Severus. However, James, Lily, and Remus all came to see you at Slytherin Tower, to see if you were all right. All three of them cried for you."  
  
Severus winced but said nothing. Dumbledore touched the boy's forehead and whispered a sleeping charm.  
  
"Sleep now, my son. Remember -- no worries."  
  
Sev's beautiful dark eyes closed, his hand clinging to the Headmaster's.  
  
"Rest and get well, child." 


	4. Apology

The Headmaster's face was as solemn as the Marauders had ever seen it. Professor McGonagall, also present in Dumbledore's office in her capacity of Head of Gryffindor House, was every bit as stern.  
  
"I only know as much about this incident as the very small bit James Potter told me as we carried Severus to the Floo portal. What I would like here is a discussion of all the facts – with the emphasis on all, gentlemen – concerning what happened at the Potter home. I will not tolerate any dissembling. If you are caught in a lie, you will be appropriately punished at Professor McGonagall's discretion."  
  
The Headmaster sat down, as majestic and commanding as the boys had ever seen him.  
  
"We will start with Mr. Pettigrew."  
  
All eyes were on the plumpest member of the Marauders.  
  
"Um – well – Sirius owled me and told me to bring my broom and meet him at the Charlesgate floo portal, which is close to where James lives. When I got there, Remus was there as well. Sirius said we were going to go to the Potters and 'play a little prank on Snivelly'."  
  
He looked at the Headmaster earnestly, as if to say, "You can see by my expression just how innocent and unassuming I am!"  
  
"And what happened next?" Dumbledore said, ignoring it.  
  
"We flew over there, and I saw both Sniv – er, Severus and James flying above the rooftops, using rocks instead of bludgers. So we all landed, then both of them came down as well. Severus started throwing up in the bushes. Then he came and stood next to James. Sirius told me to come over, and I did. He said that James had said we could use Severus as the bludger – "  
  
"Who said this?"  
  
"Um, Sirius said it to James. And he asked me if I agreed, and I guess I said I did."  
  
"Did you ever hear anything even remotely resembling that statement from James Potter?"  
  
"No, sir."  
  
"Why did you agree with Sirius?"  
  
"I don't know. Maybe because I don't like Severus and wanted to make him leave so we could just play by ourselves."  
  
"Yourselves being the four of you?" Dumbledore inquired.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Do you realize the harm your lie caused?"  
  
"Yes, sir. I'm sorry."  
  
Dumbledore frowned. "Let's hear from Mr. Lupin."  
  
Remus sighed. "First of all, sir, I'm sorry for anything I did that might have caused trouble. I really didn't say anything myself. I did hear Sirius say that they were going to use um, Snivelly as the bludger. And I heard Peter agree to it. But I didn't know whether what they'd said was a lie or not."  
  
"Did you hear any word – at any time, Mr. Lupin – indicating that James Potter planned to trick Severus or upset him in any way?"  
  
"No, sir." Remus hung his head, tarnished -- no doubt -- with guilt by association. "From what I saw, they were acting – well, like two schoolmates who were friends should act."  
  
"Mr. Black?"  
  
Professor McGonagall edged forward in her seat a bit, almost as if to say, "This ought to be good."  
  
"I got the fellows together to go play Quidditch at the Potters. And – "  
  
"Did you know, first of all, whether Mr. Snape was there?"  
  
"I did."  
  
"And how did you know this?"  
  
"James told me in Potions class right before school let out, sir."  
  
"And how did you feel about it?"  
  
"Well, um, I don't care much for Sni – er, for Mr. Snape. I guess I was sort of mad at James for not inviting me. I'd been three or four times, and it had been a good time."  
  
"So you planned to eliminate Mr. Snape from the playing field, so to speak?"  
  
"I guess I must have."  
  
"Had you spoken with any of the other boys in your group about playing a trick on Mr. Snape?"  
  
"Only Peter – um, Mr. Pettigrew, sir. I told him to go along with what I said."  
  
"And after you arrived and all brooms were back on the ground, what happened?"  
  
"Well, I saw Mr. Snape throwing up in the bushes."  
  
"Did you find it amusing, Mr. Black, that a fellow student was so upset by your presence that he became ill at the sight of you?"  
  
"It's not like he hasn't played tricks on us, sir! In fact, I – "  
  
"Confine yourself to the day in question, please."  
  
"When he came back, I made it sound like James had invited us over to get, um, Mr. Snape."  
  
"Had Mr. Potter said or done any such thing?"  
  
"No, sir."  
  
"And you had arranged ahead of time for Mr. Pettigrew to go along with you in this lie?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"And you made sure Mr. Snape heard all of this in order to upset him further?"  
  
"I guess so, sir."  
  
"Yes or no, please, Mr. Black."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"What happened next?"  
  
"We played a little Quidditch, sir. You know, just flew around the trees and smacked around rocks in place of the balls we use at school."  
  
"What happened to Mr. Snape's broom?"  
  
"I hit a rock into the top of it, sir, so it flipped him off."  
  
"Then what happened to Mr. Snape?"  
  
"He fell and hit the roof of the Potters' shed, and then fell to the ground."  
  
"Thereby injuring his knee?"  
  
"He acted like he had, sir but it was all nice deep snow he fell in – "  
  
"You might be interested in knowing that among other things, St. Mungo's is currently treating Mr. Snape for a fractured kneecap, Mr. Black."  
  
Sirius' eyes darted from friend's face to friend's face, looking for some respite or perhaps redemption.  
  
"That's too bad, sir. I didn't really mean for him to get hurt."  
  
"You only meant to wound his feelings, am I correct?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"What was Mr. Potter's attitude toward you throughout this shameful display?"  
  
"He – uh – was angry about it. He was angry that I'd told that fib about his setting Mr. Snape up for a fall, so to speak." Sirius gave a small grin, pleased with his pun. No one appreciated it with him.  
  
"Had you since apologized to Mr. Snape for what you and your friends did?"  
  
"Nuh – no, sir. I mean – why would I? He's played plenty of tricks on us. I figured he was ripe for a payback from the last prank."  
  
"Which was?" Professor Dumbledore asked, pushing his glasses slightly up his nose.  
  
"He glued my butt – er, the seat of my pants – to the stool in the Potions Lab. Then he changed our potion into fish heads, sir."  
  
"And destroying any happiness Mr. Snape derived out of the holiday with the Potters, sabotaging his friendship with Mr. Potter, and breaking his knee were sufficient recompense for glue and fish heads, Mr. Black?" said Albus, visibly angry.  
  
Sirius – knowing that all was lost – fell silent.  
  
"Mr. Black – you have what some call a 'mean streak.' It is most unbecoming in a Gryffindor, or any student of this school. I am ashamed of you." Letting that comment sink in, Dumbledore rounded to face James. "Well, Mr. Potter, you appear to have been exonerated."  
  
James nodded, miserable.  
  
"What was the gist of your comments to Mr. Snape after he fell, Mr. Potter?"  
  
"I told him that Sirius was lying and that I didn't want Sev to leave, and I was sorry for it all."  
  
"Mr. Potter, have you made an attempt since you returned to get in touch with Mr. Snape?"  
  
"No, sir. I guess he was there in Slytherin Tower by himself for days, with his knee broken and no medical treatment. I wish I had gone to see him. Perhaps he wouldn't have drunk the poison if I had."  
  
"Do you feel as if you are to blame for Mr. Snape's suicide attempt, James?"  
  
James looked up, his eyes swimming with tears. One breached his lower eyelid and slid down his cheek. "In part – yes, sir. None of it would have happened if I'd stood up to Sirius and Peter instead of going along with their plan to play Quidditch together."  
  
Dumbledore nodded, satisfied. "You are not to blame, Mr. Potter. I feel that you all may have contributed to how badly Severus had been feeling, but keep in mind that none of us – not any of you nor I – had any idea that Severus had brought poison from home for that purpose and that he would actually use it."  
  
All four boys looked dismally at the floor.  
  
"The punishments, Professor McGonagall?" Albus said, turning to the witch.  
  
"Mr. Lupin? One detention with Mr. Hagrid. Mr. Pettigrew? Five detentions with Mr. Filch."  
  
Peter groaned.  
  
"That will be enough out of you, young man! I do not feel that Mr. Potter – being blameless in all of this – should be punished. In fact, I am giving him ten House points for his kind invitation of Mr. Snape to his home -- and another twenty for his kindness to the boy."  
  
James nodded, still not looking up.  
  
"Mr. Black, your conduct was reprehensible. It was cruel. I am thoroughly disgusted. That being the case, in addition to the loss of twenty House points and seven detentions with Mr. Filch, you shall go to St. Mungo's and apologize to Mr. Snape yourself. Am I understood, Mr. Black?"  
  
Sirius nodded, his ears and neck reddening.  
  
"The trip there by floo is quite safe. I will supervise your departure and a healer by the name of Miss LaChance will see you to the proper floo portal to get you safely back to Hogwarts. You will do this tomorrow."  
  
"But Professor," Sirius gasped. "Tomorrow is the match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw!"  
  
"It appears that the match will not include you, Mr. Black. You are quite fortunate that I don't throw you off the team altogether. I am appalled by what you have done. The child you've targeted with your spite and malice has had a most unhappy life, and your cruelty towards him has been reprehensible. And -- that will be all." At this, the two professors stood.  
  
One by one, the students left the Headmaster's Office.  
  
"Thank you, Minerva, for being a voice of reason in all this. I'm afraid that I would have been imprudent in light of my anger at Mr. Black."  
  
"What would you have transfigured him into?" Professor McGonagall said with a smirk.  
  
"A chamber pot, I believe," the Headmaster replied. "A chamber pot in Mr. Snape's hospital room. Shall we head downstairs to dinner?"  
  
The Professor laughed. "Of course, Albus. I'm just not so sure my appetite is as keen as it was ten seconds ago."  
  
"I will visit Severus tonight. I wonder if they will use the bindus spell to keep him from hurting himself?"  
  
McGonagall shook her head. "The bindus is false security. The moment it's off, the suicidal person feels the urge to take advantage of its absence. I do hope Mr. Snape gets well. I know how much you care for him. Have we heard from his mother?"  
  
Albus Dumbledore shook his head ruefully. "I have dispatched three different owls on three different occasions, and upon their returns I saw that the message had been removed from them. I'm becoming rather firm in my belief that the good lady doesn't want her vacation ruined by her son's attempt to kill himself."  
  
They made their way down the spiral staircase.  
  
"Oh, Albus," Minerva replied, horrified. "Can she possibly be that selfish?"  
  
"She stood by while that child had been beaten since babyhood, doing nothing because she didn't want to lose the manor house or the family wealth."  
  
"She's no better than her husband was!"  
  
"Speaking of her husband, I understand that his term of incarceration at Azkaban will be over in another month. He'll be quite free to return to his home, his fortune, his wife, and – "  
  
"Gods, Albus. His son."  
  
Dumbledore nodded. "I won't tell Severus about this, of course. We will have to take very good care of the boy, Minerva – particularly in light of the prophecy."  
  
And with that, the two elderly teachers made their way to dinner.  
  
------------------  
  
Sirius Black stood in the reception area of St. Mungo's Hospital the following afternoon, dusting soot from his clothes.  
  
"Damn the greasy git anyways," he groused. "Wish he'd landed on his bloody fool head instead."  
  
"Mr. Black?" said a voice behind him. He turned to see a young woman wearing what looked like a dandelion puff on her head. It took several seconds for him to realize it was her hair.  
  
"Yes, ma'am."  
  
"Come along," she said curtly.  
  
They walked up and down corridors until Sirius was thoroughly confused, then stopped in front of a sunlit room filled with beds, some occupied by children or teenagers. It took Sirius a moment to register that these were abused children, and that at least some of them had tried to end their misery by taking their young lives. He felt suddenly sick to his stomach.  
  
"He's over to your left," the healer said. "I will be back for you shortly."  
  
"Thank you, Miss Dande- , er, Miss LaChance."  
  
It had never actually occurred to Sirius Black that in front of him lay an abused child who had tried to end his misery by killing himself.  
  
"Uh – Severus?"  
  
The Slytherin boy was sleeping fitfully. His face was pasty white and the discoloration under his eyes looked like deep bruises. Healing burns marred his mouth and nose.  
  
He looked dreadful. Sirius gulped, in spite of himself.  
  
"Come along now, Severus," an incoming nurse chirped. "Here's your tea! That's a love. Let me help you sit up. You have a visitor, isn't that nice?"  
  
Severus moaned and looked like he might start to cry any minute. He might cry because he was all by himself in this large and confusing place, or because his mother didn't trouble herself with him, or because he wasn't a handsome child that people naturally took to, or because of all of these reasons and more besides.  
  
He rubbed his eyes and the nurse helped him sit up, fluffing a large pillow behind his back and head so that he would be more comfortable. She handed him a paper cup of tea. "Have a lovely visit, dear," the nurse said as she whirled and bustled around him. She turned to Sirius. "Aren't you a good boy for visiting your friend!" And then – as suddenly as a summer thunderstorm – she was gone, and Sirius was face to face with Snivellus Greasy-Slimy-Git Snape.  
  
Severus gasped. "What –?"  
  
Well, best get on with it, Black told himself.  
  
"I – came to tell you that I'm sorry."  
  
No elaboration. No "what I told you was a lie" and no "James never meant you any harm".  
  
Silence.  
  
"How are you doing?" Sirius asked.  
  
"I wish the poison had done its job, Black. I wish I was dead."  
  
Black's lower lip twitched a bit.  
  
This was awful.  
  
Just awful.  
  
"Did the Headmaster force you to come, then?" Snape said in his odd hoarse voice, courtesy of the caustic poison he drank out of his despair and misery.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Bet you lost a whole lot of House points for ruining ol' Snivelly's vacation, didn't you, Black?"  
  
Severus continued to hold the untasted cup of tea and stared at Sirius with a malevolent eye.  
  
"I – guess I did."  
  
"Pity," said Sev, taking a sip of the tea. "Did they toss you off the Quidditch team?"  
  
"No – but I'm missing a match right now."  
  
Sev sneered, his eyes deadly cold. "I should burst into tears, Sillyass Black, but I seem to have run out over the past few days."  
  
"Look," Sirius said, his anger rising. "I've done what I came to do. Apologize, and that's all there is about it. Hope you choke on that tea, Snivelly."  
  
"Shove it, Black."  
  
"Too bad you didn't off yourself, you nasty ugly git."  
  
Sirius suddenly felt someone with a vice-grip catch hold of his arm.  
  
He was actually being dragged out of the hospital room!  
  
With the appropriate swear words on his lips, Sirius yanked his arm away and looked up to see –  
  
Headmaster Dumbledore.  
  
Oh gods.  
  
"That really wasn't what I had in mind for an apology, Mr. Black. It's unfortunate that spite and bad manners spoil the development of the fine young man you would otherwise be. Miss LaChance will escort you back to the floo portal. Off with you now."  
  
His face now scarlet from embarrassment, Sirius looked up into the stern gaze of Miss LaChance.  
  
"I'll be happy to escort you off the premises, Mr. Black," she said, turning on her heel and beckoning him to follow.  
  
------------  
  
The Headmaster gave a great sigh, and then composed his face to greet the ailing boy.  
  
"Severus! How are you feeling today?" he said with a smile, pulling a dozen Chocolate Frogs from his voluminous pocket.  
  
Instead, the Slytherin child had dropped his tea on the bedcovers so he could cover his face. He could no longer keep the tears back. The harsh words of Sirius Black had left him undone. He was too ill to keep up his customary defenses, and could do nothing but weep.  
  
"Oh, my poor child," Albus whispered, his heart aching. He went to the boy's outstretched arms and let him encircle his neck, while he gently lifted him up and out of bed. He then sat on the chair next to the bed and carefully set Severus down on his lap, being mindful of his injured knee. With a wave of his hand, he charmed their upcoming conversation so that others would not hear.  
  
Severus laid his poor head on Dumbledore's shoulder and cried, the injury to his throat making his sobs sound like little growls instead.  
  
"There, there, my child," Albus soothed, rubbing the boy's back. "Nobody is going to harm you whilst I'm around – you know that, don't you?"  
  
He felt Severus' head nod against his neck.  
  
"Try to put Mr. Black's words out of your mind, Severus," he soothed. "Words lack the power to hurt us unless and until we permit them to."  
  
"Don't go," the child pleaded.  
  
"I'd be happy to have a nice long visit, Severus," the kindly old wizard said. "I've been thinking of you all day."  
  
Severus raised his head and wiped his eyes, with just the mere hint of a smile on his lips. "I was thinking maybe that you were," he said in his curious hoarse voice. "I wished all day that you would come."  
  
"Well, here I am, Severus, so let's sit and enjoy each other's company for a while, all right?"  
  
Winding his arms around the Headmaster's neck once again, Severus nodded. "Thank you," he whispered.  
  
"Thank you for being such a good and brave boy, Severus."  
  
--------  
  
It was only ten minutes later when Healer LaChance joined them. "So – that's the boy who told Severus the lie, isn't it?"  
  
Pointing at the sleeping young burden in his lap, Dumbledore nodded. Without so much as a pause, the healer took off the blanket that had absorbed most of the tea and reached for a fresh one from a little cabinet on the other side of the hospital bed. She snapped it open and neatly made Severus' bed up again. She patted it obligingly, gesturing to Albus to lay the child down since he had fallen fast asleep.  
  
Both of them tucked him in. Healer LaChance arranged his pillow comfortably around his head and neck while Albus whispered a safe dreams charm and touched the Dark child's forehead. Asphora LaChance looked up at Albus and was moved to see his tears of empathy and love blurring the blue of his eyes. She put a hand on his arm, sending him a pulse of soothing healing energy. He nodded his thanks, and then sat back down in the chair next to the boy's bed.  
  
"I'll sit with him a while, if that's all right," Dumbledore said quietly.  
  
She smiled and nodded, happy for her patient's sake that at least one kindly soul beside herself would help care for him here at St. Mungo's Hospital.  
  
TBC  
  
For illustrations to this and my other stories, go to the web address on my profile page!  
  
Comments for my wonderful reviewers this weekend...I promise! 


	5. More Than Meets the Eye

Chapter 5 – More than Meets the Eye

I'm going there to see my Father, 

I'm going there, No more to roam,

I'm only going over Jordan,

I'm only going over Home.  
  
- Poor Wayfaring Stranger  
American traditional song

Asphora LaChance brought over a chair and sat across from Albus, almost knee-to-knee. It did not offend Albus Dumbledore; in fact, he seemed almost to expect it. He checked to see if his silencing charm was still doing its job. Once he was certain that Severus and the other children couldn't hear them, he leaned forward toward Asphora and she leaned forward toward him.  
  
"Professor Sartoris and his 'poisonous aura'. Talk to me," said Albus.  
  
"He is a Dark wizard. Did you know that?"  
  
Albus' blue eyes widened and there was a brief silence as the man fathomed this intelligence. "I'm ashamed to admit that I did not."  
  
"Well, I'm glad I told you. I'd also watched his interactions with Severus when he was first brought in. Let me see if I can find the words to adequately describe what I felt." The Healer dropped her head into her hands for a moment, concentrating hard. "He seemed to have an almost – predatory – interest in the boy. I also sensed that he was a Watcher."  
  
"A Watcher?" Dumbledore whispered.  
  
"One who watches someone or something on behalf of another. I felt very uncomfortable around the man. I wonder on whose behalf your professor is watching young Severus?"  
  
The Headmaster's brow furrowed. "You are no doubt familiar with a Dark wizard by the name of Tom Riddle. He has a number of followers, one of whom is Severus' father, I believe."  
  
"It could be. It would fit. Sartoris watches Severus, like Snape Senior watches Severus. If both were beholden to Tom Riddle – then one would have to ask what Riddle's interest is in this child."  
  
A long silence played out between them.  
  
"Sartoris has allowed Severus access to the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts Library over the past two years. I knew about it, but Sartoris assured me it was only for further study of potions and their history." Albus sighed. "I've been accused by more than one individual of being far too trusting, giving my confidence away to persons who later turn out to be wholly undeserving of it. Based on what you've told me, I now suspect that there may be a more sinister reason behind the library visits."  
  
"Is there any way to observe Severus when he does use the Restricted Section?"  
  
"It's usually at night. I can have our caretaker, Argus Filch, keep an eye on him and see precisely where he goes," Dumbledore said. "Of course, this presupposes that Severus comes back to Hogwarts and continues his special studies at Sartoris' behest."  
  
The healer smiled, taking the old man's hand. She pulsed him some calming energy, and he relaxed a bit. "You are an old fox," she said. "You know more than what you're willing to say about our young friend Snape. I accept that, and I will not ask about what is none of my business. However, since he is both important to you as a student and to me as a patient -- both of us must do everything we can to restore him to some semblance of sanity and normalcy. This, in turn, will keep him closer to the side of the Light."  
  
"Yes," Albus agreed. "He must go on to play out the role the Fates have laid out for him. Not that I know or understand that path, mind you, but I sense that he will be very important to a great many people in the future."  
  
Asphora lightly rubbed his hand. "Yes. Yet I sense that you are still troubled."  
  
Dumbledore looked up at her. "I cannot accept that Severus' mother would be so callous as to disregard three messages asking her to come home in his time of need. She may well be negligent in her maternal responsibilities, but she is no monster. It is possible that the owl posts meant for her fell into sinister hands -- hands that don't want her to give Severus the love and attention he needs -- hands that want to shut out any positive influences in his life." He shook his head. "I do believe I'm starting to scare myself."  
  
"Indeed. And you should, Headmaster Dumbledore," the healer remarked. "I sense dark threads shot throughout Severus' aura; threads that vie for supremacy over yours. I cannot tell you who placed them there, but it is quite obvious to me that there are substantial Dark influences in the boy's life – ones you must do your very best to combat. I will do the same when I interact with him here."  
  
Dumbledore nodded, and ruminated on what Asphora had told him.  
  
He then sat up straight, stretching out his sore back. "So much Darkness in the world lately. So much heartache and disappointment for my Dark child in the bed over there. I do believe I will use my phoenix to deliver the next letter to Mrs. Snape – if Dark forces try to trifle with Fawkes, they will regret it."  
  
Asphora smiled. "A phoenix? How wonderful -- and how Albus Dumbledore!"  
  
The old wizard broke into a grin. "Do I have my own genre, then?"  
  
"Your aura is fascinating, as I told you," Miss LaChance reiterated. "You have more positive energy circulating in and around you than anyone I've ever sensed. Do what you can to share as much as you're able with Severus, for he will need it!"  
  
Dumbledore nodded once more. "I'm also troubled that his father will be released from Azkaban soon. He doesn't know of his son's suicide attempt, of course. I expect he will punish the boy for it since Snape Senior wants to use his son for his own ends. Unless I intervene, he will again drag him down into hopelessness."  
  
"If he is the primary source of the Darkness in Severus, you will have a hard time keeping them apart, won't you?" the healer asked.  
  
"I will do what I can to keep Severus at Hogwarts during school breaks. I will also make a point of visiting him frequently, particularly since he might try to kill himself again if his path is as hard as I think it might be."  
  
"He loves you," she said quietly. "And I feel that your love for him is what will save him in the end." The two mystics looked steadily at one another, confident in their common conclusion and common goal.  
  
"I will have to be cautious in my handling of Sartoris' supervision of the boy," Albus continued. "He will resent any intrusion, and – if he is as Dark a wizard as you sense him to be – he will react negatively to my influence. The very idea that one of my own staff might be in league with Snape Senior chills my blood!"  
  
"Not 'might be', Headmaster," Asphora whispered. "Your teacher is in league with him, and with others besides – perhaps to groom Severus for some Dark role; for some Dark purpose."  
  
"They will snatch his very soul if I'm not careful," Dumbledore whispered back. He patted Asphora's hands, and then slowly stood, further easing his back as he did so. "Look at the hour! I must be on my way." Albus waved the silencing charm away, and then went over to the Slytherin boy's bedside. He was sleeping peacefully, thanks to Dumbledore's charm that provided him with pleasant dreams.  
  
"May the gods watch over you and protect you, my poor Dark child," Albus said, brushing the hair from his forehead. Severus opened his eyes, still half in a dream. He smiled and reached out, catching hold of the Headmaster's robe.  
  
"I must leave you now, Severus," Albus said in his gentle way. "Sleep well and have a good day tomorrow, and I will see you in the evening. I predict we may have better luck in contacting your mother so that she can be here with you, too."  
  
Severus sighed and his beautiful heavy-lidded eyes closed once again.  
  
---------------------  
  
Once Albus Dumbledore was safely back in his rooms at Hogwarts, he shrugged off his traveling cloak, went over to his little mantelpiece altar, and lit a candle. Of course, he had no need for a match!  
  
"May all the positive forces of the universe unite to keep the evil out of Severus, and out of me as well – and to keep the Light bright in both our lives."  
  
He extinguished the flame with a wave of his hand. He changed, and then slid between the sheets of his bed. He fell asleep almost at once.  
  
Albus Dumbledore, the greatest White wizard in the world, had begun to connect the dots that would reveal the life's path for his Dark child. However, it would not occur to the old wizard that little Britomartis Vox – Severus' cherished best friend and the only positive influence in his sad life – had been taken from him by forces as Dark as those that had already insinuated themselves throughout young Snape's aura.  
  
-------------------  
  
"Stop that," Severus Snape growled, trying to reach behind him to slap away his healer's hands.  
  
Asphora LaChance laughed and touched his shoulders, filling him with a soothing and calming wave of energy. The boy visibly relaxed.  
  
"It is one of my goals to make you less afraid of human contact, Severus," she said. "You are like a hurt little animal, and I understand completely why you feel this way. However, you need to realize that not everyone is out to harm you."  
  
"Practically everybody in my whole bloody life is out to stick it to me, one way or another," Sev huffed.  
  
"Such a cynic for fifteen," she commented. "Now stop fidgeting and let me brush these snarls out."  
  
Severus was out of bed and on the same chair upon which Albus Dumbledore had rested the night before. Miss LaChance was trying to coax the snarls out of the boy's matted black hair.  
  
"Don't be afraid, sweetheart," she said. "I won't hurt you. And if I came even halfway close to it somehow, I feel that your Headmaster would knock me into next week."  
  
Severus grinned a secret little grin at the mention of his mentor's name. He loved his Headmaster and was touched to the very depth of his heart that the great man considered him important enough to care for.  
  
"You love him, don't you?"  
  
Severus nodded. "He is my real father – instead of that bastard who I hope is suffering horribly in Azkaban."  
  
Asphora started to gently probe the issue of Severus' father as she brushed his hair into dark gloss. "He hurt you a great deal over the years. Are all those scars on your body from his cruelty?"  
  
"As far back as I can remember, he's hated me. I was born just so he could have an apprentice, you know. He told me." Sev started to cry almost right away. Healer LaChance shuddered at the wave of revulsion that washed through the boy's being.  
  
For the next hour, they sorted through the sad story of Severus Snape, the son. By the end of their talk, she understood some measure of her patient's inner wounds, and knew what she could try to help heal at least some of them.  
  
"There," she said, tying off the end of a thick braid she'd plaited into the boy's hair. "You look very handsome."  
  
He blushed and dropped his head. "I don't like it," he whispered.  
  
"How do you know?" she said. "I don't see a mirror in front of you."  
  
"I don't like it because there's nothing to hide behind."  
  
"Do you need to hide behind your hair, Severus?"  
  
He nodded. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't."  
  
"Well, let's compromise today," the Healer said. She pulled out some long strands to frame his face. "Is that better?"  
  
His curt nod belied his awed gratitude that this lady would even want to touch his loathsome hair. "My old friend Martis liked me to wear a braid."  
  
"Do you want to tell me about her, Severus?"  
  
---------------  
  
For young Snape to tell a virtual stranger about the girl he had loved with all his heart was a remarkable thing. Because Miss LaChance was a medium and a healer, she appreciated the enormous effort he made to satisfy her request.  
  
Britomartis Vox had been a brilliant, funny, and warm girl who had attended Hogwarts for three years, grabbing hold of the shunned boy and taking him through many adventures. Together, they had confounded the Gryffindor Marauders; she had empowered Severus to defend himself. And well he could – so long as she was around.  
  
But her parents had transferred her to Beauxbatons, very suddenly and out of the blue, and Sev's life was once again plunged into self-doubt, self-loathing, and heartbreaking loneliness.  
  
Pranking by the Gryffindors had continued with a vengeance, but now Severus no longer had his friend Martis at his side. After the incident by the lake which exposed the unfortunate Slytherin to his classmates, he slowly began to fall apart. He had fled into the Forbidden Forest, seeking death. He had trusted one of the Marauders to be his friend – what a fool he had been! – and after his trust had been betrayed, he sought death once again. This time, however, Severus had his father's bottled poison to help him on the way.  
  
It was much easier to accept the Dark when you had been deprived of the Light in your life.  
  
"Why does Headmaster Dumbledore still care about me?" Severus sobbed, his healer's hands on his shoulders, trying to calm his terrible internal fear. "I tried to kill myself. He should hate me for that!"  
  
"Nonsense, Severus. Your Headmaster loves you because you are you. You didn't have to do anything to gain his love. No matter what you do, he will still love you. That is what is meant by unconditional love, you see."  
  
Sev turned and looked at her. "I don't understand that."  
  
"I know you don't, sweetheart. But you will in time. Just know that you are lovable – as you are right now, without any proof."  
  
He sighed deeply and hung his head.  
  
"I'll bet you're hungry. How about some lunch? Then you can take a nap. Your Headmaster will be here when you wake up. Does that sound good to you?"  
  
Inexplicably, Severus turned and threw his arms around her, as he once had embraced Martis. Asphora wrapped her own arms around him in a warm and healing embrace.  
  
"I think you will feel much better when you leave here to go back to school," Asphora LaChance said, smoothing the hair of the troubled boy. "I have great confidence in your inner strength and resilience, Severus Snape." 


	6. Poisons that Lurk in the Mud

Chapter 6 – Poisons that Lurk in the Mud  
  
The afternoon at the Children's Ward at St. Mungo's had gone less idyllically than expected. Severus had tried his hand at eating solid food, only to encounter an obstruction in his stomach. The healers hadn't realized the poison had reached that far. After a session of miserable retching, immediately followed by medical treatment to clear the blockage, Sev fell into an uneasy sleep.  
  
An hour later, the boy woke screaming. He sat up against the pillows, scrunched into a tight ball of terror.  
  
Asphora LaChance raced to his side. "What is it, sweetheart?" she crooned, afraid to fully touch him; her fingers traced the contours of his head gently. Severus did not answer, but only hid his face in his hands and moaned. The healer felt the waves of fear and shame that rolled off the boy's psyche like the currents of a fast river. She turned and ran to fetch two other healers.  
  
"Sev," she said in a calm and soothing voice when she returned. "I have two friends with me who I want you to meet."  
  
The sobbing child shook his head.  
  
"Please. Do it for me," she said, touching his arm and sending some healing energy his way. He flinched and pulled away.  
  
"It's all right, Shonsey," Sibelius Hammer said.  
  
"We'll take charge. Your boy will be all right." Aloysius Bede nodded.  
  
"We had talked about his father and about a friend he had at Hogwarts earlier today," Asphora said. "Perhaps this has to do with one or both topics."  
  
"Remember, Shonsey," Bede said. "It's like peeling an onion. We're still in the top layers here. We'll do our best."  
  
Both healers brought chairs up to the two respective edges of the bed. They raised their hands over the suffering patient, gently brushing his aura. Both young men, with their eyes closed and their inner eyes seeing clearly, then broke through the terrified boy's psychic defenses as gently as if they had brushed away cobwebs.  
  
And they saw.  
  
----------------  
  
Dinner in the Great Hall was so full of tension that it would have been a miracle for any student there to actually eat and digest happily.  
  
The Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students glanced warily at the other two House tables. The Slytherins glared at the Gryffindors; most of the Gryffindors glared at the Marauders.  
  
"What are you staring at, you nasty snake?" Sirius Black said to Evan Ryper.  
  
The Slytherin boy sneered. "Nothing," he returned.  
  
The teachers at the head table kept their eyes moving constantly. It would not do for a quarrel to break out among the tense students. Albus Dumbledore had a bad feeling about both this mealtime and about Severus. He planned to go to St. Mungo's after dinner.  
  
As Sirius Black, James Potter, and Peter Pettigrew shoveled food into their mouths for the sheer distraction of it, Remus Lupin swallowed a lump of mashed potato and murmured something.  
  
"What was that, Moony?" said James, still subdued and sick at heart over Snape's attempted suicide.  
  
"You make me sick," Remus said. "Not you, James. The others. And me as well."  
  
Sirius raised his handsome head. "Oh come on, Moony! It's Snivellus we pranked! Like Dumbledore said, it wasn't our fault if the slimy little greaseball tried to burn his innards out. The kid's been nutters since the day he came here."  
  
"But it was our fault," Remus said, now meeting Sirius' eyes.  
  
This was unusual. Remus was always the quiet one; the one with common sense. He had never challenged any of the other Marauders. It would have been unwise to do so, he had reasoned; they knew he was a werewolf and accepted him nonetheless. For the first time in his young life, Remus Lupin Had Friends.  
  
"Moony! Get over it, man! The little creep's at the hospital and he'll come out, ready to turn all of us into Komodo dragons. Just you wait and see."  
  
"No – I – will – not – wait," Remus Lupin growled. "YOU are the real creep here!"  
  
Black dropped his fork in mock awe. "What is this, Moony? Have you gone nutters on us as well?"  
  
The boy's brown eyes blazed. He pointed an accusing finger at Sirius. "YOU – ARE – A – MENACE – TO – OTHERS, PADFOOT."  
  
Peter Pettigrew snorted. It was clear that he desired to side with the stronger Marauder here. "Get off it, Moony," he said, spearing another sweet potato. The tension certainly hadn't diminished his appetite any.  
  
"Now, Moony," Black said, as if he was talking to someone half-witted, "I don't know where you get off speaking to me like that, but if you stop now, I'll forget it ever happened."  
  
Remus Lupin rose.  
  
Dozens of eyes from all tables followed him.  
  
"MARTIS VOX ALMOST DIED BECAUSE OF YOU. SEVERUS SNAPE ALMOST DIED BECAUSE OF YOU. THEY WEREN'T KIDS YOU LIKED, TRUE, BUT YOU HAD NO RIGHT. AND YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO SIT HERE ACTING LIKE EVERYTHING'S ROSES. IT – IS – YOUR – FAULT!"  
  
Pettigrew actually spoke up. "Everyone knows you fancied Vox, Moony. It wasn't so bad, having that break from school. And everyone hates Snivelly. Why get so worked up over that skinny little git?"  
  
Angry now, Sirius stood. "Sit, Moony, or I will knock you down."  
  
"Like hell you will," Remus hissed, drawing his wand. "Accio wand," he said, and Black's wand flew from the sleeve of his robe. He grabbed it and glared at Sirius.  
  
Minerva McGonagall had never moved so fast in her life. Within seeming seconds she was down at the Gryffindor table, situating herself in between the two boys. "Stop it at once," she ordered. "Mr. Lupin, kindly give me that wand and sit down."  
  
"But Professor McGonagall," Remus Lupin said, suppressing his own tears. Remus was a go-along boy, and challenging the pack's alpha male had been supremely difficult for him. "Sirius is dangerous. He's almost killed two Slytherins and doesn't even recognize that what he did was wrong!"  
  
"She's right, Professor," said Lucius Malfoy, who had appeared at her right side. "We really don't know whether Severus is coming back here or whether his parents will be burying him at Evergreen Cemetery instead."  
  
"I can handle this without your interference, Mr. Malfoy. Kindly return to your table."  
  
"Just so Black knows," Lucius hissed at Sirius, "we'll be watching his every move. And you'd better pray to the gods that Sev doesn't die. If he does – why, who would know what might happen to you?"  
  
Sirius rose with a cry. Minerva McGonagall seated him again with a wave of the wand she held. "Take yourself and your threats out of here, Mr. Malfoy, before you lose fifty House points!!"  
  
With an aristocratic sneer on his handsome face, Malfoy curled his lip at Black and went back to the Slytherin table, where he was instantly hailed as a hero.  
  
"Moony, you're out of our little club," Sirius snarled at the white-faced boy who had challenged him. "Go find a group of friends on your own. And good bloody luck at it, too, you pathetic lump!"  
  
Remus dug his fingers into his thighs to keep from crying.  
  
Alone again? His heart broke.  
  
But it couldn't have been any other way. He had his dignity and his honor, after all – werewolf or not.  
  
-------------  
  
"We've written up our reports, Shonsey," Sibelius Hammer said, handing Asphora LaChance a parchment scroll. "The long and short of it is that Severus hadn't just been beaten, he had been ritually tortured by his father, systematically and over a period of years. It made us both sick, seeing what he still saw in his mind's eye. The worst of the worst. Apparently, he'd suppressed most of it until now."  
  
"Until I peeled that layer off the onion this morning," Asphora said, sad for the boy.

"But you had to," Aloysius Bede told her in his own soothing tone. "Until we get to the worst of it and take it out and look at it, he'll just try to kill himself again – and keep on doing it until he's run out of rescuers. You don't want that for him."  
  
"I know," Healer LaChance said quietly. "I once read a Muggle book about an ancient Roman emperor who had been surrounded by corruption and evildoers. When asked whether he was going to fix it all, he had shaken his head and said, 'Let all the poisons that lurk in the mud hatch out'."  
  
"In other words," Sibelius said, "release the most terrible secrets our patient carries, so that they may be exposed to the Light and healed or diminished."  
  
Asphora nodded. "I think that's what happened to Severus today. How is he now?"  
  
Bede dropped his clear green eyes. "Catatonic."  
  
---------------  
  
Albus Dumbledore sought out Asphora LaChance when he flooed over to the hospital later that evening.  
  
"He's had a reversal, Headmaster," she told him.  
  
"Please – it's Albus," he said.  
  
"First, he needed surgery on his stomach due to the corrosive poison. Apparently, it had reached that far after all. Then he broke through some very bad memories today, and it was too much for him. He's shut down entirely, Albus."  
  
"Can you tell me what those memories entailed?" Dumbledore asked solemnly.  
  
She handed him a parchment and he read.  
  
"Confutatis Maledictis Snape will never see another day of freedom," the Headmaster swore, his tone ice-cold.  
  
------------------  
  
"Severus?" Healer LaChance said. "Severus, can you turn your head toward me? The Headmaster is here to see you!"  
  
Severus lay on his side in a fetal knot, eyes staring straight ahead. He did not respond.  
  
"Severus?" said Albus, reaching out his hand. Severus' knot tightened in his instinctive desire to present as small a target as he could.  
  
"Oh, dear," the healer said. "He's not talking to us tonight, it seems."  
  
Albus then reached over the bed and scooped the boy up in his arms. Severus responded by shrieking loudly. His words were unintelligible.  
  
"Albus, I think you need to put him back down," Asphora said, frightened by the boy's outcry. Sibelius Hammer ran into the room, casting a silencing charm around the old wizard and the boy and rushing about to comfort the other young patients who had awakened.  
  
"Nonsense," Dumbledore said. "I know what I'm doing."  
  
He sat down in the chair next to the bed, arranging the screaming child onto his lap. Severus was still tight in a knot, shivering all over. The Headmaster sent such a wave of healing energy into him that he shrieked again, but relaxed a bit.  
  
"It's me, Severus," Albus whispered directly into his ear. "Nobody can hurt you while I'm here, don't you remember? There is no evil here. You are safe. You're safe, Severus!"  
  
The child's arms and legs began to unfold as some of the tension was pushed out of his body by the smooth and persistent wave of healing energy. He moaned as a large blockage of inner misery was swept out and away.  
  
"Such a good boy," Albus crooned. "Such a good child. Severus is good. He is safe, and calm, and he will get well again."  
  
The thin arms found their way around Dumbledore and the Dark child's head rested on his chest. "Safe," Albus soothed. "Severus is safe, right here and now. Safe. No more hurt, no more pain. Just peace."  
  
When the Headmaster held him close this time, Severus did not flinch.  
  
---------------  
  
Albus Dumbledore and young Severus Snape sat there together for more than an hour. Albus had not removed any of the boy's memories (such an action would have been unwise; it would have been like removing a chapter from a book that one must read in order to heal) but he had swept out much of Severus' fear, breaking it up into sparkling magical fragments that blew away in the constant breeze of psychic energy.  
  
Fearful that Snape was still in his catatonic state, the silver-haired healer approached him.  
  
"Severus, it's Asphora. Can you speak to me?"  
  
The boy was silent for a while, and then he uttered a single word:  
  
"Peace."  
  
He then fell into an easy slumber in the arms of the only person he'd ever known who could protect him from the Darkness. 


	7. The Prophesy

Chapter 7 – The Prophesy  
  
Things at Hogwarts were tense over the next few days, to say the very least. Evan Ryper and the Lestrange boys ambushed and beat up Sirius Black when he was walking from the lake. James was also jumped by a couple of Slytherin lads he couldn't identify; he was knocked out before he could turn around. He did recall one of them saying, "We've saved you a bed at St.Mungo's, Potter."  
  
There were insults, catcalls, and seriously nasty pranks played by Slytherin against Gryffindor and vice versa. Fed up, Dumbledore announced a seven o'clock curfew for an indefinite period of time, which meant that the students went straight from dinner to their dorms. All evening activities were cancelled until the cessation of hostilities between the Houses.  
  
Remus Lupin was trying to get used to eating by himself, walking to class by himself, and studying by himself. It seemed that his only friends were James and Lily, and he hadn't wanted to be a third wheel. Lupin also found it odd that he'd escaped the wrath of the Slytherin students. Perhaps his disavowal of Sirius Black and his tactics had saved him from all sorts of trouble. In spite of it all, he was lonely and miserable.  
  
Even Fawkes the phoenix couldn't seem to locate Severus' mother.  
  
-----------  
  
Lily had summoned the courage to actually floo to St. Mungo's to see Severus one afternoon. She had wanted James to come with her, but he had told her it wasn't a very good idea and gave her a card to give to the ailing boy instead.  
  
Healer Asphora LaChance, who had scrutinized and re-scrutinized the girl's aura looking for threads of deceit or trickery and finding none, showed her to the Children's ward.  
  
The pinched little faces in all the beds looked at her as she entered.  
  
"Mama LaChance," one little boy called. "Want some water please, Mama LaChance." Leaving Lily, the healer went to assist the child.  
  
Lily looked around until she saw the only bedside table without any flowers or cards. His father in jail, his mother gone to parts unknown, his classmates locked in combat against one another – who else would have sent greetings to Severus? So few kids at Hogwarts had cared for him anyway, with his standoffish air and sharp tongue and his tendency to hex anyone who crossed him. The Gryffindor girl was extra glad she had come.  
  
She walked over to where Severus lay asleep.  
  
He lay there, twitching slightly, as if someone had fixed him with a dark curse. His dark hair – clean and shiny for once – was spread out over the pillow. His face was pale, his eyes deeply shadowed in their sockets. Since he still had trouble eating solid food, he was being nourished via Muggle intravenous fluid.  
  
Lily's eyes followed the liquid up the tube and then watched it drip, drip, drip. The room was warm enough to make her sleepy. She didn't want to be rude and wake him up, so she dropped into a nearby chair and waited.  
  
Sev moaned and turned his head. "Please no," he murmured. Fearing that he was trapped in a bad dream, Lily leaned over him and gently shook his arm. His dark eyes snapped open and became furious instantly.  
  
"Whu – whu – what are you doing here, Ev – Evans?" he whispered. There appeared to be something wrong with his voice because it didn't sound like Severus.  
  
"I just came to see you and to say hello," the girl said in genuine innocence and goodness. "I've missed seeing you around – Potions Class just isn't the same without you!"  
  
"I'll bet the Marauders don't miss me in Potions Class. Or anywhere else, for that matter," the boy whispered hoarsely.  
  
"Well, Remus stood up to Sirius over what had happened to you, and Sirius put him out of the Marauders. Then James said there was no real point in his belonging, either. So right now, Sev, there are only two Marauders."  
  
"Never fear," Severus continued. "They'll all kiss and make up – so to speak. It would take more than some greasy Slytherin kid snuffing himself to break up that gang of pack-hunters."  
  
"James sent you this card," Lily said, taking it from her school bag and handing it to him.  
  
He waved it away. "I don't want it."  
  
She laid it carefully on the bedside table. "I've never been in hospital before, Sev. What is it like in here?"  
  
He focused his fathomless dark eyes on her clear green ones. "Welcome to the Land of the Lost Children, Evans. Broken toys, all of us. Stuffing torn out and tossed around, springs unsprung, parts missing. Some adult manhandled each of us then threw the husks away, until somebody swept us all together and dumped us into a barrel. This is it. The barrel, I mean."  
  
Lily noticed how his mouth curled and twisted as he spoke, and how his eyes clouded with pain. She wondered if it was physical or emotional.  
  
"You can glue together the head of a broken doll, but it'll never be sound again. It will just crack right on the lines of the original breaks when too much pressure is put on it. Snap!"  
  
Lily wondered if the poison had damaged his brain.  
  
"That's me. I think I'm all right for a while, then something makes my head go 'snap' and I'm all broken again."  
  
"I'm sorry to hear it, Sev."  
  
"They call it 'counseling'. All I know is that it hurts like the very devil and I'm made to look in places I'd just as soon not poke around in." He paused and sighed, his eyes darting around the room. "My knee is healing all right. I keep having operations, though, because of the poison having mucked up my innards. I won't be out of here anytime soon."  
  
Lily leaned forward, afraid to touch him. "I'm so sorry for your trouble, Sev. I wish I could make it all go away."  
  
His mouth quivered, and he abruptly rolled over with his back facing Lily. "I'm tired now. Give my regards to your boyfriend and his pals. Maybe they'll be kind enough to slit my wrists for me when I come back since I'm no longer allowed to do it for myself."  
  
The tears squirted out of Lily's eyes. "Oh, Sev. I hope you feel better and you're back at Hogwarts soon. Not everyone hates you, you know." She looked at the boy closely, seeing his shoulders shaking and realizing that he was crying. No wonder he had wanted her to leave so abruptly.  
  
She stood and removed her wand from her sleeve. She transfigured a paper drinking cup (glass was not allowed on the ward for obvious reasons) into a bouquet of peonies. She took a tissue dispenser and created a vase of yellow roses. She spotted a crumpled-up cup on the floor, retrieved it, and transfigured it into a large vaseful of jonquils.  
  
As she walked away, she decorated the windowsill with violets, and surrounded the floor around the boy's bed with daisy heads.  
  
"Get well, Severus Snape," she whispered as she reached the doorway.  
  
She then fled for the floo portal, crying.  
  
----------  
  
Albus Dumbledore sat in his study, poring over an old parchment. One of his old friends at the Ministry of Magic had given it him once as a favor since it mentioned a "Castle" – ostensibly Hogwarts.  
  
The old wizard had puzzled over it many a night and still understood very little of it. He had uncovered the first clue quite by accident; he had been talking to Minerva about the new First Years and referred to Severus Snape as a "Dark child" because of his lineage and pre-Hogwarts training. The next time Dumbledore had read the parchment, it had clicked in his head.  
  
Time to try it again:

"Dark child bereft of comfort near 

His life of struggle, shame and fear

Shall to the Castle hearken near.

Strange shall he be to all, and yet 

A friend from Grecian Island met

Torn from his arms via evil threat.

Defied throughout by enemies four 

The fourth by whom an open door

Is pushed, shall open more.

Deceit and lies the Dark child trick 

His heart and mind so deathly sick

Until the Flame shall meet the wick.

The man of Light his eyes unblock 

Yet one shall craft a deadly plot

And none his poor heart shall unlock

The Devil and his Hell to see 

The child returns to plead with he

Whose love once set his spirit free.

Another youth shall grow apart 

With wife and child plans to impart

Relief from Devil's angry art.

That two shall die, but why not three? 

The babe shall to the Castle flee

The Dark child shall heap misery.

The Babe and Demon struggle nigh 

One to defeat, and one to die

Dark Child shall raise the Babe on high.

The last travail by Goodness won 

By that marauder's Earthly son

And by the Dark Child, all but gone."

Only the first four stanzas made any sense to him. "Well, the gods must intend a long life for me if I'm to see this prophesy unfold before my eyes," thought Albus Dumbledore.  
  
He thought that perhaps he would bring Remus Lupin with him when he visited Snape tomorrow night.  
  
He would have to decide that then. For now – sleep.  
  
---------  
  
It was late in the Children's ward.  
  
Severus hadn't spoken to any of the other young patients since his arrival at St. Mungo's. Why should he? He could barely deal with his own misery, let alone theirs.  
  
It was all right. When you were solitary by nature, you tended to be excellent company for yourself. Unless you were in the morass of a depression, that is. Then you were your own worst enemy.  
  
Sev looked at the flowers Lily had left him. He smiled. He wished he hadn't been so stinking mean to her. She hadn't hurt him any, after all. The flowers smelled good – like the meadows at home in the springtime.  
  
His eye fell on the card Lily had left on the bedside table, right next to the yellow roses. Severus reached for it, moaning as the muscles in his diaphragm contracted. Might as well have a look.  
  
He opened it. It was a handmade card, obviously.  
  
TO SEVERUS  
  
GET WELL SOON  
  
FROM JAMES POTTER AND FAMILY  
  
Potter had drawn squiggles around the edges as a special touch. Kid wasn't much of an artist, that was for sure.  
  
Sev opened the card, and something slipped out. He caught it before it was swept off the bed and onto the floor. He didn't think he could reach over that far, if that's what it came down to.  
  
It was the photo of Sev and James eating the Pig Cake.  
  
He looked at the chocolate "eyebrows" he had drawn on Potter, and at the mashed-up icing smeared down his own sweatshirt.  
  
Just two mates having a bit of fun. They had their arms around each other in cheerful friendship, like brothers.  
  
Severus burst into tears.  
  
--------- 


	8. Friends and Foes

Chapter 8 – Friends and Foes  
  
If someone had told James Potter that Severus Snape would help him win Lily Evans' heart, he would have laughed himself into a hemorrhage.  
  
"How was the hospital visit, Lily?" James said, watching her approach and then sit next to him at the Great Hall breakfast table.  
  
"Grim," she sighed. "Very grim. He looks awful and I think he still wants to die."  
  
James shrugged. "Well, if they can't fix him, no one can," he said. "It's amazing that he even woke up at all."  
  
"He said something about having a lot of operations. His throat is still burned, I think, because he sounds entirely different."  
  
"Too bad," James said. "So many rotten things have happened over the last month."  
  
"And some good has come of it, too," said Lily, patting his hand. "I found out that James Potter has a heart of gold."  
  
James was too thrilled and flabbergasted to respond, so he simply crammed his mouth full of waffle.  
  
-----------  
  
"I understand that you still want to die, Severus," said Sibelius Hammer.  
  
Severus' mental blast shields went up.  
  
"Who told you that?"  
  
"I overheard you telling your visitor last night that you wished someone would slit your wrists for you."  
  
"YOU EAVESDROPPED? I THOUGHT THERE WAS A SILENCING CHARM OVER US!"  
  
"There was – but I still heard you."  
  
Severus grumbled something exceedingly nasty about psychic counselors.  
  
"Let's talk about why you feel that way, Severus."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"It's important for your recovery."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Personally, I want to see you recover and make it in life, Sev. You have great strength inside you. How you've managed to survive this long is astounding."  
  
Severus shrugged and looked at the floor.  
  
"Why do you want to die so badly?"  
  
The boy lifted his chin, a sneer on his face. "Oh, let's see. My father – well, you know all about that. I wish I hadn't remembered. Thanks for reminding me."  
  
"We are going to have to talk about that, Severus."  
  
"Not today we're not. Let's continue," Sev began counting with his fingers. "My mother ignores me and never wanted to have me in the first place. The students at Hogwarts hate me. The majority of the faculty at Hogwarts hates me. I'm skinny and ugly. The girls laugh at me when I ask them out. My best friend was taken away from me and since then my life has gone right in the toilet. I have terrible dreams. I'm afraid of everything. People scare me. Hands scare me. Noises scare me. Oh, I almost forgot -- the Marauders – four boys from Gryffindor House – have been out to get me since I first set foot on school grounds. Shall I go on?"  
  
"I understand that one of them came here to apologize the day after you were admitted, but it didn't turn out to be an apology at all."  
  
"That's SillyAss Black. The bastard. And the other three, of course."  
  
"Why do you hate them, Sev?"  
  
"Do you want another list?"  
  
"I'd be happy to listen to whatever you have to say."  
  
"Sirius Black attached my hair to his broomstick and then rode low over the moors, dragging me in the mud. They tied me up and threatened to put a bonfire under me; they actually stacked the wood and lit the match! They knocked me down in the wintertime and stuffed my robes full of snow, lots of times. They did the same thing to my friend Martis and she almost died of exposure."  
  
"Completely unacceptable behavior. Go on, Sev."  
  
Severus blinked at him. Did the counselor agree with him about the great and glorious heroes of Gryffindor?  
  
"They've turned my food into guts, they've exploded my projects, burned my homework, and hexed my clothes. They've beaten me up more times than I can count. They've blamed lab accidents on me. They've thrown me in the lake. They've set me up with teachers – passing notes and turning in parchments that were supposedly from me but weren't."  
  
"What would you say was the worst thing they did to you?"  
  
Severus ducked his head low and sighed. "They flipped me upside down once. I only have one uniform and I had just been wearing my gown all buttoned up because it was my washing day. When I was turned upside down, everybody could see my underwear. It was awful. I had been put in a binding spell so I couldn't even reach up and try to cover myself. I just shut my eyes and prayed. And then – one of them, James Potter, said he was going to take off my underpants and I prayed that he wouldn't – but he did. When he released me from the hex, I ran into the Forbidden Forest and the Headmaster and some other people had to come fetch me."  
  
"I don't blame you, Sev. I probably would have done the same thing, just to get away."  
  
Sev blinked again. "Really?"  
  
Sibelius nodded. "Really. Your survival instincts are good. Don't you realize that you really want to live, deep down inside?"  
  
Sev dropped his head.  
  
"Severus – think hard and see if you can't tell me the one reason why you don't want to live any more. What people have done to you certainly impact that, but what is it that breaks your heart?"  
  
The Slytherin boy looked up at him, and then dropped his head again. It didn't take long for the tears to fall.  
  
"I – don't matter. I'm – worthless. People – don't like me, let alone love me. And – that – breaks – my – heart!"  
  
The child cried as his counselor held him.  
  
"Just so you know," Healer Hammer said, "You do matter. You are a valuable and worthwhile person, right now, without any proof."  
  
Sev sighed. "That sounds like something Healer LaChance told me."  
  
"It's true."  
  
"I don't understand it, though. I don't understand – love."  
  
"Well, think on it once in a while and maybe you will in time."  
  
"I doubt it. All I have to look forward to is trying to stay out of the Marauders' way."  
  
"What else did these "Marauders" do to you?"  
  
"More of the same, I guess. They make fun of my nose, my ratty old hand-me- down clothes, my greasy hair, the way I talk, the way I move, and they've called me every nasty name you can think of. They've stolen my school books and hidden my things. They sent love letters from m-me to girls I – I – I would never – think of – sending letters."  
  
"You stammered just then, Sev. What about that is so upsetting to you?"  
  
"W-well, the really p-pretty girls, I mean. The ones who'd never th-think of being with m-me. They would laugh or s-s-sometimes they'd come up and slap me in th-the face and I wouldn't even know wh-why. S-some of the letters were really di-dirty."  
  
"Have you stammered before, Sev?"  
  
"My d-dad cursed me and b-beat me up one summer, just before s - school," the boy said. "I don't k-know whether it was the Cruciatus or-or the beating that d-did it. Since then i-it happens wh-when I get nervous."  
  
"Don't worry about it. I'm sure it will go away. What else have the Marauders done?"  
  
"They p-pushed me into a creek and p - poured lye soap on my head. I almost went b-blind."  
  
"Why would they do that?"  
  
Severus' mouth twitched at the corners. "They th - think that b - because my hair is g - greasy I don't take baths. I do, every day! I w - wash my hair every day! But it's – I don't know – it's like my h - head is an oil well or something."  
  
"Many teens face the same problem."  
  
"Not as b - bad as me! They call me G -greaseball and Slimy Snake. One year I was G - greasy Git, the next year I w - was Mr. Slick of Slytherin. They also call me a lot of other th – things, like Hatchet-Face and Twitchy."  
  
"Why did they call you Twitchy?"  
  
Severus balled his hands into fists. "Because my damned f - father has p - put enough curses on me to s - screw up my nervous system. I've been hit with the Cruciatus more ti - times than I can c - count."  
  
"I'm so sorry to hear about that," Sibelius Hammer said humbly.  
  
"Everybody's s - sorry about it, but what about b - back then? I was just this poor little kid running around with b - bruises and burns and broken b - bones and nobody did anything about it. Even at Hogwarts."  
  
"I thought your Headmaster confronted your father."  
  
"He did – but Da told him not to stick his n - nose where it didn't belong. And now he's c - coming out of Azkaban soon – "  
  
"How did you find out, Severus?" Healer Hammer said, concerned.  
  
"I can count."  
  
"What do you think will happen when he is released from prison?"  
  
"He's just g - going to get out and beat the crap out of my m - mother and me. I hope he k - kills me quickly. I figure I've s - suffered enough."  
  
"We will do what we can to make sure that does not happen, Severus."  
  
"Oh, right. My Headmaster wanted to bring my father up on ch - charges when I was a First Year, b - but he said I would have to t - testify against him. But Da had told me that if I ever told anyone about him and me that he would k - kill my mother in revenge." Severus broke into harsh, choking sobs, with more anger than misery in them.  
  
Sibelius wrapped his arms around the boy again and streamed healing energy through him. Gradually, Sev's panic settled back down to a manageable level.  
  
The healer tipped Sev's chin up with his hand. "Listen to me very carefully, Severus. There is NO WAY we will allow that man to ever hurt you again. We're more than healers. We are also employees of the Ministry of Magic, and, unlike teachers and schoolmasters, we do have the power to stop him."  
  
"Forgive me, but I don't b - believe you," Sev said, shaking off the healer's hand. "Can I take a n - nap now?" He was white with anxiety.  
  
Sibelius Hammer sighed. "Of course, Severus. You and I will work on this. And Healer LaChance will help too. You will feel better when you leave here, I know it. I can't guarantee that your life will be any easier, but you will have the tools to handle whatever comes your way." He stood, then motioned to Severus to follow him.  
  
On their way, they met Healer LaChance.  
  
"Hello, Severus," she said. "No braid today?"  
  
Sev's cheeks dimpled. "Nah – not today. Didn't feel like it, I guess."  
  
"Sev needs a nap, Shonsey," Sibelius Hammer said. "Why don't you take him back to the ward if you're going that way?"  
  
"Sure! Come on, Sev."  
  
Severus said goodbye to Sibelius and began the long and winding path back to the Children's Psychiatric Ward.  
  
"Why do they call you t - that?" he asked.  
  
"From my last name. In French, it's said "lah shonss" – so Shonsey is just a nickname for it."  
  
"I've never had a nice nickname. Just b - bad ones."  
  
"If I was to choose one for you, I'd call you Survivor Sev."  
  
"Why?" he asked, dropping his head.  
  
"Because that's what you are. You have incredible reserves of strength inside you. You're not really aware of them. But how else would you have survived your father's torture and your mother's neglect and your classmates' taunting without your inner strength?"  
  
Severus shrugged noncommittally.  
  
"The gods must be saving you for something great, Severus," Healer LaChance emphasized as they rounded into the ward. "Ah, here we are. The elves have made you up a nice fresh bed! Come on, get into those pajamas."  
  
She whirled her wand, dropping a modesty curtain around the boy. He liked the clean smell and the softness of the hospital's nightclothes. In some indefinable way, they made him feel cared for.  
  
"Done?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
With another whirl of her wand, the curtain disappeared. Severus had already climbed into bed. Healer LaChance helped him snuggle down and tucked him in. She made sure the pillow fit comfortably under his head.  
  
"Why are you so nice?"  
  
The healer smiled. "It makes me happy to make you happy."  
  
Sev tucked his face under his top sheet so she wouldn't see his smile.  
  
She smoothed his hair. "Never be afraid to let others see your smile, Sev. Your whole face comes to life when you smile. Have a wonderful, safe nap." She leaned over and kissed the child's forehead, adding a blush to his smile.  
  
For the first time in a very long while Severus Snape didn't feel like dying. He closed his beautiful dark eyes and slipped into a contented sleep.  
  
--------------  
  
Professor McGonagall swept into the room and spoke briefly to Professor Flitwick.  
  
"James Potter, you are wanted in Professor McGonagall's room."  
  
She then visited Professor McElwain's Defense Against the Dark Arts class.  
  
"Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew, kindly report to Professor McGonagall's room,"  
  
She then went by Professor Sprout's greenhouse.  
  
"Mr. Black, would you go to Professor McGonagall's room? Thank you."  
  
----------  
  
The boys entered the Transfigurations professor's classroom. They glanced at one another uneasily.  
  
"Gentlemen," said Professor McGonagall, entering behind them. "All four of you room together. Hasn't it been awkward, this factions business, one half of you not speaking to the other half?"  
  
They nodded without much enthusiasm.  
  
"I think you should take the next five minutes to make peace with one another. I am certain, of course, that any such discussion should not authorize playing pranks on Mr. Snape. His Head of House will exact the same sort of pledge from him. Mr. Potter, you will speak first."  
  
"I blame Sirius for causing the problem with Severus. We really had a good time, and you totally ruined it. It was like a slap in my face. And Peter, your agreeing with him about discussions you never had made me look like a total liar. I don't understand why you would set me up like that."  
  
"Mr. Pettigrew?" said Professor McGonagall.  
  
"Um – sorry, Prongs. I'll never do it again," Peter said.  
  
Sirius was slower to respond. "All right, look. I did it because I didn't want the greasy – "  
  
"Mr. Black!" the professor warned.  
  
"Sorry, ma'am. I didn't want Snape hanging around with us. That's all. I promise I won't prank him until the end of the year."  
  
"What about after that?" Minerva said.  
  
"I don't know. I'll only agree to do what I honestly believe I can carry out."  
  
"I'd like to hear an apology, Mr. Black," she remarked.  
  
"Sorry, Prongs. Sorry, Moony. I was totally rude."  
  
"Will you shake on it, gentlemen?" Professor McGonagall inquired.  
  
They sheepishly shook on it.  
  
"Now. I would like to hear a promise from the other three that they won't prank Mr. Snape."  
  
"I agree with that," Remus said. "I would like to go visit him. Do any of you want to go with me?"  
  
James said, "I think he'd have me thrown out."  
  
"Perhaps he wouldn't if he knew you were telling the truth."  
  
"And you're prepared to say that?"  
  
"Certainly. I was wrong for standing by and watching it happen."  
  
"All right. I'll go. But I'm not guaranteeing anything."  
  
"Mr. Black and Mr. Pettigrew? Do you wish to go and join in the apology?" said the Transfigurations professor.  
  
"Not really."  
  
"Very well. You are dismissed. Mr. Lupin and Mr. Potter, you may ask the Headmaster for permission to go with him. That's all."  
  
---------------  
  
Severus opened his eyes to see the pallid face of Lucius Malfoy looming over him.  
  
"About time you woke up, Snape," Lucius drawled. "I've been waiting an age. I've got a good deal to tell you!"  
  
Sev sat up, rubbing his eyes. "What's been going on?"  
  
Lucius raised an eyebrow, peering at the underclassman in the snooty way he had. "I've seen dead hedgehogs lying on the side of the road that look better than you do."  
  
Sev shrugged. "I s - suppose everyone knows what I did."  
  
Lucius Malfoy sat down on the chair to the left of Sev's hospital bed. "They do. You were the talk of the Castle for one whole week. Then attention was diverted to Madeline Parkinson's horrific new haircut."  
  
Severus grinned. "Maybe by the time I get back to school, p - people will have forgotten all about it."  
  
Lucius' blue eyes flashed with a hard glitter. "No, Snape. We don't want people to forget what happened to you. Those bastards over in Gryffindor House have got to be taught a lesson. Oh, you asked what had been going on – well, let's see if I can summarize. Slytherin/Gryffindor fist fights and/or hex wars, at least once a day. Campus-wide seven o'clock curfew to stem the House hostilities. Ev and your cousins beat the crap out of Black for you. The Woot brothers took down Potter."  
  
"Woahh! Is that r - right?"  
  
"They had to learn the hard way that we take care of our own."  
  
Sev's eyes grew huge. Wasn't it only last month when most of his Housemates either ignored him or ranked him out for whatever reason?  
  
"Yes, Snape. You have become a – cause celebre."  
  
"R - really?"  
  
Lucius smiled his tight controlled smile. "You tried to make friends with one of those Gryffindor bastards and just look what happened to you! You ended up in St. Mungo's looking like road kill!"  
  
Both boys laughed. It was the first time Sev had laughed since he had visited James Potter at his house.  
  
"I hope you've learned your lesson, Snape," said Lucius, taking on the mien of an elder statesman. "Your real friends are in Slytherin House. Never forget that."  
  
Sev's eyes opened wide. "A-all right."  
  
"And no more of that foolish stuttering. Slytherins don't stutter."  
  
Sev felt like dropping his head and letting his hair shield his face, but he knew better than to pull that in front of Malfoy.  
  
"You know, Snape, people have been taking notice of you. You're probably the best Potions student the school's had in the last fifty years. There are people who would be very interested in a fellow like you."  
  
Severus tried his hardest not to stutter. "Is that right?"  
  
"Absolutely. You see, Snape, you can hang around with people who make fun of you, or you can hang around with the winners -- people who would welcome your expertise and place a high value upon it. So, when you get out of this hellhole called a hospital, come see me and I'll have you talk with some of the older Slytherins." Lucius fixed his bright drill-bit eyes upon Severus. "You don't have to put up with people who beat you up and play tricks on you. We Slytherins don't have to put up with nonsense from anyone."  
  
"I got in trouble first term of my first year for throwing Dark hexes, Lucius. I can't do that at Hogwarts."  
  
Lucius leaned forward. "But you did plenty of magic before you came to Hogwarts. Your father is a friend of my father...or he was, that is, until he became a jailbird."  
  
Severus gave a hard little laugh at this.  
  
"You're tremendously skilled in the art of potion making – one of a kind. You have a wealth of knowledge to share with – our kind of friends."  
  
"I'm n - not supposed to practice magic outside of school. You know that."  
  
"Don't you think there are such things as shields against Ministry detection? Don't be such a dummy, Snape."  
  
Sev blinked.  
  
"Not everyone cowers at Ministry pronouncements. Some of us take our own stand and set our own limits. I'm sure if you wanted to teach some of the upperclassmen what you know, we could arrange a safe place to do it – say, Malfoy Manor. Interested?"  
  
"I s - suppose."  
  
"Well, think about it. And think about the fact that your Slytherin brothers and sisters are out there defending your reputation as we speak." However --," Lucius said, throwing on his traveling cloak, "I'd better go before you pass out; you're looking a bit cross-eyed to me."  
  
"It's the medicine th-they've been giving m-me."  
  
Lucius spun around, his long white hair whipping over his shoulder. "What did I tell you about that damnable stutter, Snape?"  
  
Sev sat silent.  
  
"And Snape," Malfoy said with the tiniest touch of a sneer. "No more suicide attempts, eh? It's so déclassé." And with that declaration, Lucius Malfoy left the Children's Ward.  
  
Severus sighed deeply, and decided he might as well have another nap before the Headmaster came. Being awake was becoming far too stressful. 


	9. More Poison

Chapter 9 – More Poison  
  
"Good evening, Headmaster," said Asphora LaChance. "Are these two young gentlemen with you?"  
  
"They are, and good evening to you. You seem a bit jittery."  
  
"We had a slight breakdown in our security to this ward earlier today. I thought another healer was covering it, and he thought I was covering it. One of Sev's classmates did manage to come in and see him. He's been very distant since. He was an older boy with long platinum hair. Handsome. Might you know him?"  
  
"Lucius Malfoy," Dumbledore said. "Another member of Sev's House."  
  
He did not share his misgivings with her (nor could Asphora read his mind; he was quite good at blocking out intruding thoughts), nor did he say anything negative about Malfoy in front of the boys.  
  
"Well, why not come in? Sev's in the common room tonight."  
  
All four – the healer, the headmaster, Remus Lupin, and James Potter -- headed into the large room. There were games and wizard's chessboards around. About twenty-five listless people sat around in various stages of dress, ranging from wizarding street clothes to pajamas. The boys noticed that they weren't really interacting with one another.  
  
"They're nutters – why should they talk to one another?" James thought but did not say.  
  
And there was Severus Snape, hidden away in a corner, sitting in a stuffed chair, hands stuffed under him. He had spent the late afternoon and early evening first enjoying a nap, then reliving some of the horrific memories he had buried concerning his father, which he definitely did not enjoy. To say that the boy was emotionally fragile would have been an understatement. On the outside, however, he presented a neutral face to the world. It was one of his best defense mechanisms.  
  
"I will leave you gentlemen here," Asphora said. "I have an emergency admission, and must make sure Sib covers check-in for me." And with a nod of her head, she was off.  
  
"Hello, Severus," said Albus Dumbledore, walking into the common room with the two students in tow.  
  
"Headmaster!" Sev cried, standing up so quickly that he became dizzy and swayed alarmingly.  
  
"Easy there!" the Headmaster cried, grabbing the boy's arms gently and steadying him.  
  
"I'm so happy to see you!" Sev said, throwing his arms around the old wizard. "I waited all day!"  
  
He helped Severus back over to his chair and sat him down. "And here I am," the kindly man said, returning Sev's hug. "And I've brought along two people who would like to apologize to you and try to make things right, if that can be done." James and Remus approached, almost shyly. Neither of them had ever been in a place remotely like this one, and both felt a bit intimidated by it all.  
  
"Hello, Sev," said Remus.  
  
"How are you doing, Sev?" said James.  
  
Both boys approached. Dumbledore watched Severus closely and was alarmed to see the boy's face go white. The Headmaster put his hand on Snape's shoulder to read his physical state. His heart rate had jumped alarmingly and the adrenaline was pumping through the boy's system at top speed. This was not good.  
  
"Why don't you two go outside and – "Dumbledore began.  
  
Sev was on his feet. "You stinking bastards!" he shrieked. "I can't believe you have the sack to come here! You put me here, damn you both to hell!"  
  
Both boys stepped back and eyed the Headmaster, who gestured to the doors with his head.  
  
"No! You came all this way to see me! Well then, don't rush off! "Sev turned to the other people in the room, most of whom were looking his way to see where the noise was coming from. "Marauders will always be Marauders! Let the Headmaster and everybody else hear what you rotters have done to me!"  
  
"Oh gods, James," Remus breathed. "He is out of his mind!"  
  
Dumbledore paused, wanting to avoid disruption yet wanting Severus to have his say. He thought of a line in one of Robert Graves' books: "Let all the poisons that lurk in the mud hatch out."  
  
"These two," Sev said in a voice that rose with intensity with every word, "these two and their friends have spent their entire time at Hogwarts tormenting me! Stealing from me, kicking me, humiliating me, beating me up, stripping me bare, trying to drown me – "  
  
"Take it easy, Sev," said James, putting up his palms towards Severus in a gesture of conciliation. "We came to say we're really sorry for all of it."  
  
Snape's eyes took on a hard glitter that Dumbledore had never seen before. That must be the boy's dark side coming out, he thought.  
  
"I'm the only one who's sorry – sorry for ever seeing your faces!" the boy shrieked, taking a few steps toward them. "Blast the both of you to Hell!"  
  
The Slytherin raised his arm. After all, his father had taught him to work magic without a wand.  
  
Feeling the surge of Dark energy from the boy, a group of patients who sat nearby began to wail. It was the most unearthly sound the two schoolboys had ever heard. Some beat their hands on the arms of their chairs, and others clapped their hands over their faces.  
  
Dumbledore promptly seized Sev's wrist. The patients' wails became screams. Four or five healers and assistants raced into the room. Asphora caught Dumbledore's eye immediately. "Stop this," she thought, and Dumbledore heard her.  
  
"No, Severus," the wizard said, pumping him full of White energy. "It's all right. No one will hurt you. Calm down, child."  
  
James and Remus raced out of the room and ran down the nearest corridor. They might get good and lost, but at least they would be away from those crazy people and that crazy boy.  
  
Sev wrenched his arm away from Dumbledore and dove into the stuffed chair, digging between the cushions for something.  
  
"ALBUS," shouted Asphora, reading the boy's thoughts. "STOP HIM!"  
  
Before Dumbledore could react, Severus took a metal fork out of its hiding place and jammed its head into his left wrist.  
  
The Headmaster grabbed the boy with his right hand and wrestled for the fork with his left. Snape was trying to shield it with his body. "Petrificus Totalis!" the old wizard said, and Severus froze in place.  
  
By this time, most of the patients were shrieking with agitation, and some were running aimlessly around the room. Some went to the windows – charmed so that they could neither open nor be broken – and beat their hands against the glass. The healers did what they could to pacify the more frightened ones.  
  
Dumbledore gently pulled the fork out of Severus' wrist. Luckily, it wasn't sharp enough to do any real damage, but what hurt the man's soul more than anything was that his young charge was still suicidal.  
  
"All right now, Severus," the Headmaster whispered. "Calm down now. I will unfreeze you, and I will catch you." With a whispered countercharm, Sev slumped down. Albus caught him and wrapped both arms around him, leading him to a table and chairs.  
  
"Here, let me," Asphora said, wrapping her hands around the boy's wrist, stopping the bleeding. "Oh, Sev. Oh, sweetheart. We have a lot more work to do, don't we?" The kind young woman raised his chin and smoothed his hair away from his face. He jerked away from her, shaking his head hard so that the hair covered it once more, and curled up against the Headmaster.  
  
By this time, the other healers had rounded up the patients in the common room and trundled them back to their rooms. They left a few seated there, so catatonic that they had never noticed anything was amiss.  
  
Dumbledore then moved and knelt down in front of Severus. "Come, child. Let me carry you back to your bed." With a sigh, the boy wrapped his arms around Albus' neck and was carried out of the room. The healer followed them.  
  
"I'll have to find out where that fork came from," she sighed. "Seems between the breach in security earlier today and his coming by the fork, I haven't done my job very well."  
  
Albus could sense her disappointment in herself. "I don't think any real harm was done. It's lucky that we were nearby, and lucky that we realized how ill our Severus really is. My poor child," he sighed, looking down at the boy in his arms.  
  
----------------------  
  
Albus and Asphora got Severus settled into his bed. He was agitated and tense.  
  
"What is it, Sev?" Asphora asked.  
  
"My – f-fa-father – " he stammered, shivering with fear.  
  
"Oh honey," she said. "We will talk about it later if it's too hard for you now."  
  
Severus nodded, clinging to Dumbledore's hand.  
  
"Take a rest, Sev," she soothed, charming him asleep. She turned to the Headmaster.  
  
"I'll see if I can find your two other boys," she said. "Will you stay with him until I get back?"  
  
"Certainly."  
  
----------------------  
  
James and Remus were located downstairs by the reception desk, and Asphora LaChance had gone back to the Children's Ward to send down Dumbledore. Both boys were shaken by what had happened.  
  
"I'm through with him," James said. "There is no way I'm going to hang out with somebody that crazy. I took the Oath, so I won't prank him. But I'm not going to expect anything positive out of him either."  
  
Remus Lupin shook his head. "It's very sad. Very sad. Did you see all those people in there?"  
  
James nodded. "I want out of here. My skin is crawling. Ah, here's the Headmaster!"  
  
Dumbledore approached. "I'm very sorry about what happened. I truly didn't know Severus would react that strongly to your visit. He seems to be sicker than we thought. But he will get better, and he will go back to school. Treating him with compassion rather than hostility will be a credit to you. I will award twenty points each to Gryffindor for making the effort here today. I will see you safely flooed back, but I want to stay here a while longer. All right?"  
  
Both boys nodded.  
  
And when they got back to the Castle, neither would get much sleep.  
  
-------------------  
  
It was now very late at night. Awake again, Severus lay in bed with Dumbledore's soothing hand on either side of his head. He was flooding the boy's body with healing energy. Sev could feel some of the worst anxiety leave him, although his memories remained. He tried to be as small and inconspicuous as possible. He did not want to be a bother, and was ashamed to be in such a state.  
  
Albus smoothed the boy's long hair off his face and Severus grabbed his hands and hung on for dear life. "It will be all right, Severus," the old wizard said. "You will get well."  
  
The Headmaster settled into his own thoughts. He thought it might be a good idea to obliviate certain of Severus' memories so that they lost their power to terrify and further traumatize the boy. There was no point in reliving nightmares if no good would come of it. It was rather like picking up a sharp knife by its blade in the hopes of making it blunt. He would ask Healer LaChance when she returned.  
  
He also thought about the upcoming hearing that would decide whether Confutatis Maledictis Snape would be released from Azkaban. To the boy who clung to him, the man was more harmful than any toxin could be.  
  
"Then let me be the antidote," he murmured. "Don't worry, my son. I will keep him from you."  
  
Severus lay in his hospital bed reliving the horrors in his head, and Dumbledore stood guard. Their only comfort was that they were together, linked by their hands and their hearts. 


	10. Hospital Records and Close Encounters

Chapter 10 – Hospital Records and Close Encounters  
  
------------------------------------------  
  
Date: November 20, 1961  
  
Patient Name: SNAPE, SEVERUS SILANUS  
  
Date of birth: December 21, 1960  
  
Sex: Male  
  
Next of Kin/Parent/Guardian: Confutatis Maledictis Snape (father), Tenebria Melice Lestrange Snape (mother)  
  
Sibling(s): None  
  
Patient brought in by: Father  
  
Seen by: Healer Arisa Britten-Toft  
  
Patient is a child just under one year old. Height and weight are below norm. Father complains that Patient is listless, shows no interest in toys. Has failed to walk.  
  
Physical examination performed – examination of skull revealed a hairline fracture – occipital lobe. Father reports that patient fell out of crib and that he was unaware of injury.  
  
Pursuant to Wizard Children's Protection Act of 1956, report indicating suspected abuse filed with Ministry of Magic.  
  
Patient discharged 11/20/61.  
  
-------------------------------------  
  
Date: January 6, 1977  
  
Patient Name: SNAPE, SEVERUS SILANUS  
  
Date of birth: December 21, 1960  
  
Sex: Male  
  
Next of Kin/Parent/Guardian: Confutatis Maledictis Snape (father), Tenebria Melice Lestrange Snape (mother)  
  
Sibling(s): None  
  
Patient brought in by: Albus Dumbledore, Sejanus Sartoris, Gallo Penderdandis  
  
Seen by: Healer Asphora D. LaChance  
  
Patient is a sixteen-year-old student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Patient reportedly drank a poison identified by school Potions Master as Euphorbia resinifera or common Spurge. Antidote given while at school. Patient reportedly suffered seizures and Potions Master performed an emergency tracheotomy before transport to hospital.  
  
Physical examination performed: Patient is underweight. His trunk and arms show significant scarring of unknown origin. Superficial burns appear on Patient's mouth, nose, and tongue. Examination of esophagus and trachea reveal chemical burns. Reopened both, repaired stoma in throat. Examination of swollen left knee revealed recent fracture of patella, which was treated.  
  
Upon information and belief, Patient attempted suicide upon return from Yuletide Holiday at classmate's home. Poison reportedly brought from Patient's home and ingested in dormitory room.  
  
Patient Admitted – Children's Psychiatric Ward 1/6/77.  
  
--------------------------------------------------  
  
Asphora LaChance shuffled through the parchments of the last few days. She hadn't meant to look for prior hospital records relating to Severus, but there they were. If only the Ministry had taken steps to protect that poor baby back in 1961, we might not be treating a suicidal boy, she thought to herself. Well. Hindsight is golden, isn't that what the Muggles say?  
  
It certainly made interesting reading. She rolled it up, ready to show it to Albus Dumbledore.  
  
------------  
  
Severus had been so agitated after seeing James and Remus that a charm had been inadequate to get him to sleep. Asphora had given him a sleeping draught that finally gave him relief. Albus Dumbledore had fallen asleep in the chair, waking at 3 am and deciding to send an owl to the school explaining where he was and stretching out on one of the hospital's unused beds for the remainder of the night.  
  
The boy had awakened around 10 am, highly anxious due to the flood of previously suppressed memories relating to abuse by his father. Asphora had to sedate him and use a bindus charm on him so that he would not harm himself. She had spoken to him about the fork; apparently, he had found it already hidden in the chair and used it on impulse when seeing his classmates. He had told her he was sorry it hadn't been a carving knife.  
  
Helping Severus Snape was certainly going to be a challenge.  
  
-------------  
  
"He totally freaked out," Remus said.  
  
"What did you expect – a brass band?" said Sirius Black, stuffing his face with macaroni and cheese.  
  
"No. Seriously," Remus said again.  
  
James Potter reached for the plate of ham. "Guy went totally nutters. Of course he's in a place full of 'em, so he was in his element."  
  
"That place gave me the creeps," Remus commented.  
  
"That's because it was full of creeps like Snivellus," Sirius replied between mouthfuls of cornbread.  
  
"I guess he meant what he said before he tried to kill himself," Lily said sadly (for it was she who sat to the right of James Potter). "I'm sorry, but I still feel badly for him."  
  
"Don't," Sirius snapped. "Maybe they'll just keep him there and we won't have to trouble ourselves with his greasy hair and big nose."  
  
Peter Pettigrew chortled. "Maybe they have a Greasy Hair and Big Nose Department."  
  
"Nah," Sirius snickered. "They don't need one. They can just stick him in the Nut Jobs Department instead."  
  
"I think you're all horrible," Lily said. "I feel bad for him, and would help him if I could."  
  
James sat quietly, hanging his head.  
  
----------------  
  
Severus had backslid considerably since the incident in the common room the night before. All three healers on his case were alarmed by his failure to talk to them.  
  
"He does this when it's all too much," Albus Dumbledore counseled, remembering Severus after the Great Hall demon incident. "He just shuts down for a while. I wouldn't worry too much. Just let him be for right now and I'm sure he'll come around."  
  
"I'm also concerned that he holds his hands like that," said Sib Hammer.  
  
Again, the Headmaster addressed his concerns. "You hold your hands like that if you don't want to be punched in the face."  
  
Asphora LaChance smiled. "Somebody might think you were really his father, Albus. You know so much about him!"  
  
"I wish I had been. We wouldn't be sitting here now, worried sick over the boy. Interesting reading, this parchment you gave me, Asphora."  
  
"Sev?" said Sib. "I'm going to have to take you to another part of the hospital so we can run some tests. Come on and I'll help you out of bed. It's just on the other side of the common room."  
  
Without moving his hands Severus shook his head.  
  
"No c – c- common room," he whispered.  
  
"See?" Albus said. "I told you he'd come around. Severus? Good morning."  
  
His large dark eyes focused on the Headmaster. "G – good m – m – mor – morning, H – H –headmaster."  
  
Asphora frowned. That stutter was getting worse, which meant that her patient was getting worse. "Can I get you something to eat, Severus? We took out the IV tube yesterday and I would like to see you try something solid."  
  
He shook his head, and then looked glumly at both healers. He slowly slid back under the covers, pulling them up over the top of his head.  
  
"Sev?"  
  
No answer.  
  
"Sev, please. I need to get you over to the other room. They're ready for you now."  
  
No answer.  
  
"Ice cream," said Dumbledore.  
  
Fingers appeared over the edge of the blanket.  
  
"All the ice cream you can eat."  
  
Dark eyes peeked out.  
  
"Come on, Severus," Albus said. "Why don't you sit in a moveable chair and I'll take you over for your test. And then you can eat all the ice cream you want. All right, then?"  
  
A solemn boy unearthed himself from the bedcovers and shrugged at the Headmaster. Sib was back in thirty seconds with what Muggles would call a wheelchair. Albus and Sibelius helped him into it, and Asphora LaChance wrapped a cover around his middle and legs.  
  
"Let's go," said Sib, winking at Dumbledore.  
  
------------  
  
The common room was sparsely populated this late morning in January. There sat another patient in a wheelchair right on the other side of the piano. He was a man in late middle age who trembled from head to toe. Some sort of neurological problem, Albus thought.  
  
When they rolled Severus by, the man's expression went from one of total disinterest in his surroundings to outright terror.  
  
"THERE HE IS! GODS! THERE HE IS! THE ONE WHO DID IT!"  
  
Another healer rushed to his side, and followed his pointing finger, which was directed at Severus.  
  
"I think he's made a mistake," said Healer LaChance. "This is a schoolboy!"  
  
"NO! THE MASK SLIPPED! THE MASK SLIPPED AND I SAW HIM! THAT NOSE IN THAT FACE, EXACTLY! THAT'S HIM! THAT'S THE ONE RIGHT THERE!"  
  
The other healer spoke up. "This gentleman got caught wandering too close to a gathering of Dark wizards. One of them gave him the Cruciatus Curse repeatedly. That's what we're treating him for."  
  
Albus nodded and began to push the chair, which led to another outburst by the seated man.  
  
"DON'T LET HIM LEAVE! HE'S THE ONE WHO CURSED ME! I'LL SEE HIS FACE UNTIL MY DYING DAY! DON'T LET HIM GO!" The distraught man began to weep.  
  
Albus Dumbledore straightened suddenly. "I wonder," he muttered. He looked fixedly at Healer LaChance. "I wonder if he might be seeing the same face all right – just a younger version."  
  
Asphora's mouth dropped open. "The father! The father and not the son!"  
  
"Do you know what this means?" the Headmaster said.  
  
"I believe I do, Albus," the healer said, a slow smile spreading across her face. "I believe I do."  
  
------------- 


	11. Heart to Heart

Chapter 11 – Heart to Heart  
  
Several days had passed since the incident in the common room, and Asphora LaChance had found that Severus Snape was desperately in need of liberation from the worst of his memories.  
  
"It's so good to see you again, Albus," she said as Headmaster Dumbledore came through the door. "I need your help on a number of levels. First and foremost, our boy is refusing to eat. He told me that since he can't get hold of something that will kill him, he will just starve himself instead."  
  
"I'm so sorry to hear that," Dumbledore said with a sigh. "I was hoping that Severus was improving."  
  
"Just the opposite, I'm afraid," the healer said. "The memories that Sib stirred up are ruining any chance of recovery that Sev might otherwise have. You can join me in the Obliviatus ceremony shortly. "  
  
"That's fine. And before we do that, we obviously must find a way to get food into him," Albus remarked.  
  
The healer nodded. "Before I threaten him with the IV and restraints, I wanted you to give it a go. Would you?"  
  
"Of course," the old wizard said.  
  
------------  
  
The two walked into the Children's Ward, where Severus sat stiffly in a chair, looking out the window.  
  
"Hello, Severus," the healer said.  
  
No answer.  
  
"How is my boy?" said Dumbledore.  
  
Severus turned around, then got up and limped his way over to the Headmaster (his broken knee hadn't mended as well as hoped) and was lost in his hug. He clung to the elderly wizard in desperation as well as love. He didn't know what he would do if Dumbledore decided to start treating him like everyone else.  
  
"I would like to have a chat with you, Severus," Dumbledore said, guiding the boy over to the chair and sitting down. Sev plunked on his lap and curled up, contented for once.  
  
"I understand that you're not eating enough, child. You're already thin. You must eat to build up your strength."  
  
"B – b – but I d – d- don't want t – t – to, H – Headmaster."  
  
"Don't you want to go back to school?  
  
Severus shook his head, which Albus felt rather than saw.  
  
"Because of Black and his friends?"  
  
Severus nodded.  
  
"I suppose you don't want to go home, either."  
  
Severus shook his head.  
  
"Because of the prospect of your father coming home, and because your mother isn't there?"  
  
Severus nodded.  
  
"And so – "Dumbledore said. "There is no place for you outside this hospital."  
  
Severus nodded again.  
  
"No wonder you don't want to continue living in fear."  
  
Albus felt the boy's body tense and heard a moan, muffled by his shoulder.  
  
"Well, don't you worry. If there's a safe place for you back at Hogwarts, I'm just the man to find it." He crooned a soothing melody.  
  
"I – I – I'm s – s – sorry for c – c- crying s – s- o much."  
  
"You're right to cry," was Dumbledore's affirming answer. "There's no law against it."  
  
"T – t- there w – w was at h – h – home."  
  
"You were punished for crying, weren't you?"  
  
The boy nodded.  
  
"Then you must have a lot of stored-up tears to shed."  
  
The boy nodded once more, snuffling.  
  
"When you cry, you release your pain and sadness. It seems to me that it's something you need to do, Severus. And it's safe to cry right here and now."  
  
Severus obliged, and soon Albus' shoulder was thoroughly saturated.  
  
The minutes passed, and finally Severus relaxed against his mentor's chest with a sigh.  
  
"Now, my boy. There's a little matter of eating. Do you want to get well and go back to school?"  
  
Severus gave a deeper sigh.  
  
"There are things you don't like at Hogwarts, but how about thinking about the things that make you happy?"  
  
A small nod.  
  
"There's Potions class. And good food in the Great Hall."  
  
Another small nod.  
  
"And ice cream in the Great Hall."  
  
Dumbledore thought he heard a chuckle.  
  
"Is that laughter I hear from Sad Severus?"  
  
Severus chuckled again.  
  
"It's nice to know that Sad Severus can laugh, isn't it?"  
  
Sev nodded, wrapping his arms tighter around the old wizard.  
  
"Well, now that we've taken care of that, you need to get well, and you won't if you don't eat."  
  
A nod.  
  
"Will you try to eat for me now?"  
  
A shrug.  
  
"Well, let's sit here a little longer and you can think about it, all right?"  
  
Another nod.  
  
A few minutes passed.  
  
A stomach rumble.  
  
"Whoops, Sad Severus is hungry!" Dumbledore chuckled.  
  
A nod.  
  
What shall we do about it?"  
  
"I – I – I will t – t –try to eat – f – f- for you."  
  
Dumbledore took Severus by the shoulders and pulled him up so their eyes met. "That's the stuff!" he said.  
  
"Here's your lunch tray," said Healer LaChance, who had been standing by.  
  
"What do you think, Severus?"  
  
A nod.  
  
"You wouldn't have liked restraints and intravenous feeding, would you?"  
  
Sev shook his head with a smirk.  
  
"I see the beginning of a grin. This is impossible!"  
  
Finally, Severus broke out laughing.  
  
Dumbledore joined him, tousling his hair.  
  
"Now jump back into bed. Here comes your tray. I'll sit nearby and talk to you while you eat."  
  
Sev gazed at him, eyebrows high, a smirk on his face.  
  
"And if you eat all your lunch, you can have some – "  
  
Laughter.  
  
"– of your favorite – "  
  
More laughter.  
  
"I – I – Ice c - c - cream," the boy finished, grinning.  
  
"And what kind?"  
  
"Puh – puh – . I c – c- can't s – s – say it."  
  
"What color is it?"  
  
"G – g – green." Another grin.  
  
"GREEN ICE CREAM?" Dumbledore said in mock horror. "Pistachio! My favorite kind! Tell me, Healer LaChance, does this facility stock green ice cream?"  
  
Severus laughed with pure joy.  
  
Asphora laughed. "I'm sure the elves can find some – IF Severus eats his lunch."  
  
"I'm sure he will. Back into bed, you rascal!" Dumbledore rose and angled the boy's gangly arms and legs into bed, being mindful of the injured knee. He then tucked him in, making sure his pillow was placed comfortably behind him.  
  
Severus ducked his head and hid behind his hair.  
  
"What's the matter, my boy?"  
  
"Y – y- you're t – t – too good t – t – to m – m – me."  
  
"Well, it's about time somebody was good to you. It seems to me that most of the adults in your life so far haven't been. I want you to promise me that if you feel that we aren't treating you properly, you will let us know right away."  
  
"I – I – can't."  
  
"Why, son?"  
  
"T – t – too s – s – scared."  
  
Albus lifted the boy's head so that their eyes met. "We won't be mad at you if you let us know. Nothing bad will happen. We won't stop loving you and caring for you if you let us know."  
  
Sev ducked his head again at the mention of "love" and "care". He began to cry again.  
  
"What's the matter, Severus?" Asphora LaChance asked, smoothing his hair.  
  
"Hurts," he said. "Hurts m – m – my heart."  
  
She wrapped her arms around him, sending wave after wave of soothing energy through his being. "You deserve all the love in the world, honey," she replied. "Love doesn't have to hurt. I hope you learn that while you're here with us."  
  
Severus nodded, his head on her shoulder, eyes streaming.  
  
"And when you leave here, Headmaster Dumbledore will be there to love you and care for you."  
  
"D – d – don't d – d – deserve it."  
  
"You most certainly do, Severus," said Albus, picking up the boy's hands and sending him his own healing energy. "You deserve only the best. You are a special and valuable boy, just as you are."  
  
"T – t – that's wha – what M – M – Miss LaChance c – c – called 'uncondi – ditional l – l – love."  
  
"That's right. You are such a wonderful young man, Severus," Healer LaChance said, kissing his forehead. "Now – if your Headmaster will release your hands, why don't you try your lunch? We'll sit here and talk to you if you like."  
  
---------  
  
Severus managed to eat half his lunch, topped off by a sizeable bowl of pistachio ice cream. Feeling sleepy, he slid back and lay down. Healer LaChance arranged his pillow under his head.  
  
"Now, Sev, I'm going to do some healing that I hope will help you. Just close your eyes and drift along – there is nothing you have to say or do – and if you drift off to sleep, so much the better. All right?"  
  
"H – H – Headmaster h – h – here?"  
  
"I'm right here, son," Dumbledore said, holding the boy's hand.  
  
"Close your eyes, honey, and let your thoughts go."  
  
"All r – r – right, I w – w- will."  
  
"May the powers of Earth – Sky – Water – and Fire – join to heal this precious child," Asphora LaChance said, placing her hands on the boy's solar plexus.  
  
She reached into her pocket and placed a clear quartz point, point directed at the top of his head, on the pillow above him. "Quartz to focus healing energy - "  
  
She pulled out an amethyst point and placed it on Sev's forehead. "Amethyst to heal, protect, and empower – "  
  
She removed a pink quartz chunk and placed it above the boy's heart. "Rose quartz, the stone of love, happiness, and healing – "  
  
She picked a yellow stone from her pocket and laid it on the boy's solar plexus, where her hand had been. "Citrine, for plenty and for luck."  
  
At his feet she placed a mass of brown elongate crystals, their sharp tips pointed away from the child. "Smoky quartz to protect and channel away negative energy."  
  
Severus sighed, already blissed out by the arrangement of stones.  
  
"Precious child," Healer LaChance sighed in scarcely a whisper. "I heal you with the powers of love and understanding. Streaming into your being via the Light quartz are the positive energies surrounding you, and fear, hate, sadness, and grief flow out through the Dark quartz. What I tell you is truth. What I tell you will fill your soul with hope. What I tell you will remove your despair, your self-destruction, your hopelessness."  
  
Sev moaned. Dumbledore squeezed his hand.  
  
"You are a creature of Light. You are valuable. You are loved and are capable of loving. You – "  
  
Severus shook his head and groaned.  
  
"Easy, easy, Sev – I know it hurts to hear some of these words, but know them to be true in the depths of your heart. You are worthy. You are blessed. You have talent and spirit and intelligence and deep understanding through what you yourself have survived." Healer LaChance looked up at Albus Dumbledore, who laid his hands on the boy's temples.  
  
"May the forces of Earth – Sky – Water – and Fire keep you balanced and keep you safe. May the strength of the warrior be yours. May the craft of the wizard be yours. May the devotion of the tender soul be yours. May you be filled with happiness and peace. May you cast off your rage, your terror, your bad memories, your shame. You are a creature of Light, and deserve to live in the Light."  
  
Healer LaChance raised her hands above the boy's head and then placed them atop Dumbledore's hands, already on each side of the child's head.  
  
"Any memory or thought of the instruments of or means of torture – "She nodded at Albus –  
  
"Obliviatus est," he said.  
  
"Any memory or thought of the terror brought about by your father's sadism – "  
  
"Obliviatus est."  
  
"Any memory or thought of humiliation and shame at his hands during torture – "  
  
"Obliviatus est."  
  
"Any memory or thought of others enjoying the sight of your torture – "  
  
"Obliviatus est."  
  
She exhaled deeply. Both witch and wizard sent a gentle flow of healing energy through their patient, who sighed gently as the evil and horror left his mind.  
  
Severus' eyes fluttered. He was very near sleep.  
  
"And so mote it be," Healer LaChance said, smoothing his hair.  
  
"So mote it be," Dumbledore said, patting his hand.  
  
"Good boy," she whispered.  
  
"I'm so proud of you, my son," Albus said. "And I will be here to keep you safe while you sleep."  
  
Severus smiled gently, finally crossing over to the field of dreams, with memories of love and warmth standing by to keep the nightmares away. 


	12. The Ministry Hearing

Chapter 12 – The Ministry Hearing  
  
The weeks passed, and January dragged its uneasy way into February. St. Mungo's admitted more than its usual share of suicidal wizarding children, depressed as they were by these two grimmest months of the calendar.  
  
The obliviation of Severus' worst memories took the edge off his anxiety. He no longer seemed as interested in suicide. In fact, he even told Asphora LaChance about two prior attempts. For all intents and purposes, both had gone unnoticed by the adults who were supposed to be looking out for him, and had reinforced young Severus Snape's conclusion that he had been unworthy of their attention.  
  
---------  
  
One had occurred after a particularly humiliating pummeling by the Marauders during the boy's first year. They had ambushed Snape beneath the covered bridge where he had been collecting plant specimens for his potions work, presumably in retaliation for Sev's conjuring a blast-ended skrewt in Pettigrew's underwear, socks, and hankies drawer.  
  
Potter had hexed Sev's wand right out of his sleeve before he'd turned halfway round. Pettigrew had held his arms pinned behind him while Sirius Black had thrown punch after punch. Severus had never enjoyed robust physical health, and Black both outweighed him and stood a good half-foot taller.  
  
After he had grown tired of pummeling the Slytherin, Black had pushed him down and had yanked off his shoes and his trousers. Laughing, Sirius had thrown them into the river, where they were soon lost to sight. Severus had cried because they were his only pairs; this had led to another round of poking and prodding and calling him Snivelly.  
  
After they had wearied of tormenting him, Severus had sat shivering and bruised on the riverbank looking at the sparkling cold water. Great waves of shame and self-loathing rippled through his being as he sat and shivered, knowing he could not return to the school looking the way he did. Finally, he had put out his arms and had tumbled into the water (for Severus had never been taught to swim), hoping that the current would drag him under and make short work of him.  
  
The worst the river did was tumble him against numerous rocks and fill his nose and mouth with water. He hadn't even lost consciousness by the time it had rushed past a bend where the river meandered, depositing him on the soft bank cushioned by mud and last year's leaves. He had lain there crying, blaming himself for yet another failure.  
  
His weeping had drawn the attention of Rubeus Hagrid, who had been out hunting ferrets. Sev had explained that he had fallen in while trying to catch a frog. He glossed past the fact that he had no trousers or shoes and the tenderhearted gamekeeper hadn't question him about it, sensing that the Marauders had been involved and the boy's pride had been at stake.  
  
Hagrid had first taken the drenched boy to his hut, where he had wrapped him in an old horse blanket, and then had solemnly carried him to the Hospital wing. Thankfully for the child's pride, Hagrid had taken a path few students knew and he had not been seen.  
  
Nurse Pomfrey had treated his cuts and bruises, assuming that they came from the buffeting by the current and not by a classmate. The nurse had also spoken to Professor Gallo Penderdandis, who had bought Severus new shoes and trousers out of the Slytherin House General Fund. Fearing that the boy had been molested, Dumbledore had questioned him further about the incident but Sev had been too ashamed to tell him the truth.  
  
The second attempt had taken place after the Spring holiday. His father had beaten him again and Severus had returned to Hogwarts battered and shaky. His equilibrium was out of kilter so that he kept stumbling over his own feet. Of course, the topic of Snivelly's old man "giving him a smack- around" became the focus of the Marauders' attention. Determined to keep going in spite of it, Sev had kept enough hair in his face so no one could see his blackened eyes and bruised cheek.  
  
The trouble had all started in Professor Daragon's Divination class. Tiring of looking at a wall of black hair sitting on the front row, Daragon had asked Severus to kindly get that mop out of his face. The Marauders had all tittered when Severus had refused. Daragon had asked again, and Severus had refused again. With that, the professor had used his wand to first raise Snape's chin and then to blow the hair away from his face. The professor had seen, and Severus had ducked his head in shame.  
  
Black had said, "Looks like his old man's been at him again," and had laughed along with the other Marauders.  
  
The professor had then apologized and had asked Sev if he wanted to go to the Hospital Wing. Instead of answering, the Slytherin boy had gotten up and strode out of the room. Since class was about to let out, there had been no point in anyone going after him.  
  
Severus had hidden himself in a remote tower, determined to calm himself down. Unfortunately, he had been observed going there by Potter several days beforehand, and his secret hiding place was no longer secret.  
  
The Marauders had pummeled on the door while Severus had cowered inside. Pettigrew had shouted that creepy greasy gits like Severus were better off dead; Potter had chimed in that Severus must be tired of stopping clocks and shattering mirrors with his looks; Black had told him that if he died, not a single person on campus would mourn him.  
  
They had kept on and on and they would not leave. Severus had been trapped, something he greatly feared from many bad experiences at home.  
  
Finally, Snape had opened the leaded glass window and had crawled out onto the sill. The cold wind had cut right through his threadbare robe and he huddled against it, wanting to jump and not wanting to. Sick with shame and dread, he had crouched there for half an hour or so, watching the students passing by below him and wondering what they would do if he jumped. Indecision had stayed his hand, and after a while the Marauders left. Unfortunately, once outside Moony had looked up and had seen Severus; this had caused him to hail a nearby teacher who stood by to slow the boy's fall if he did jump.  
  
Well, there really was no point in jumping unless you knew you would succeed. Upon instructions from the teacher, Argus Filch had crept into the room, grabbing Severus from behind and dragging him away from the window. Sev had screamed and struggled, finally using a Dark hex on the man (who was and would always remain a squib) to gain his liberty. It was no good; two Seventh-Year Slytherin prefects had been waiting to grab him as he tried to run down the circular staircase.  
  
Of course, he had been taken once again to the damnable Hospital Wing. Pomfrey had clucked and fretted over the boy's injuries, knowing without asking where they had come from. He had told her he was only looking at the carvings outside the window and there was no need to bother telling anyone about it, especially his father. Pomfrey had notified Dumbledore and both had written yet another report to the Ministry of Magic's Child Protection Bureau, destined like its predecessors to sit in some bureaucrat's file unread and forgotten.  
  
------------  
  
Severus had also told these stories to his Headmaster with his head down and his voice choked with shameful tears. Dumbledore had apologized to him, telling him that he hadn't known Sev had lived in such fear and asking his forgiveness. Needless to say, it had taken Severus quite a long time to settle down; the very thought of Albus Dumbledore apologizing to him was huge. He hadn't thought he was worth it.  
  
------------  
  
It seemed as if little had changed in the troubled boy's life as time passed in St. Mungo's. He still found the prospect of life outside its walls daunting. Still, he felt better than he had in a long while. His broken knee finally healed, pushing that ill-fated Yuletide Quidditch game at Potter's a bit further from his mind. He had talked to Asphora about the incident, berating himself for his misplaced trust. Asphora had said that he had done nothing wrong and that it was natural for people to want friends. Severus hadn't known that, since neither his father nor his mother seemed to have any.  
  
The prospect of a halfway-safe Hogwarts as promised by his mentor did appeal to the Slytherin. All three of his healers/counselors worked hard to bring some closure to the boy's life with his father, but this was especially difficult with the hearing on the Elder Snape's early release drawing near.  
  
Albus Dumbledore remained the constant in Severus' life. He visited the child every day, and the love and comfort he gave to him was worth a hundred years with counselors. Asphora LaChance knew that a gradual transition away from reliance on Dumbledore would be necessary for Sev's independence and self-reliance, but now was not that time. In fact, the young woman learned a great deal from watching them together and keying on what the Headmaster did to bolster the boy's self-esteem and downcast spirits.  
  
-----------  
  
Night after night, and only after Severus had been safely tucked in bed, the healer and the Headmaster met and planned. The hearing was approaching, and they prepared to do their part in ensuring that the Dark wizard never tasted freedom again.  
  
They also took the shivering gentleman in the wheelchair into their confidence. It appeared that Snape Senior had hit the man with the Cruciatus only a week before the former's incarceration. It now appeared that the man's nervous system had been permanently damaged and that he would most likely spend a lot of time in this institution. However, he was energized and cheered at the prospect of seeing the man responsible for his condition punished for what he had done to him.  
  
-------------  
  
And at last – the day of the hearing had arrived.  
  
The circular room had been sparsely filled. It seemed that the travails of a middle-aged and not-so-powerful Dark wizard hadn't attracted much interest. Dumbledore saw with clear and wise eyes, however, and was quick to pick out the adherents of Tom Riddle – now known as Lord Voldemort -- in the room. Some were even disguised as courtroom workers. They could fool most, but they couldn't fool the greatest White wizard in the world. "Professor Sartoris daren't show his face," the Headmaster thought. "Not if he values his own skin and his job. Watcher indeed! I'll be the one watching him."  
  
The hearing judge came out of a side door, ascended the bench, and sat down. Albus knew Judge Petri to be an unremarkable but honest man. The two old sages nodded to one another in recognition. Asphora had been too busy sampling all the dark auras around the room to notice. Like Dumbledore, she had mentally separated friend from foe.  
  
And then – there he was.  
  
Confutatis Maledictis Snape.  
  
His name meant, "to confound the wicked ones". Were his parents joking, perhaps, to give such a name to someone with such a sour and foul visage? Black hair, hawk nose, and thin build. Unfortunate. Severus would have done better to resemble his mother.  
  
The Elder Snape swept the room with his flinty eyes, and the healer actually felt the evil in the man crawl all over her. She visibly shuddered, using her energy to push it back in the direction from which it came.  
  
Dumbledore? What was that old fool doing here? Maledictis Snape remembered their last meeting. The Headmaster had been going on and on about his "abusing" his useless whelp of a son. Nonsense! A bunch of weak-willed twaddle! Coddling a child would not make him into a suitable acolyte for the Dark Lord. It certainly would not.  
  
The Elder Snape tried to catch the man's eye to stare him down, but the clear blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore did not rest upon his wicked face for a single moment.  
  
"This hearing is now called to order," the bailiff announced. A hush fell over the room. "The motion on behalf of Mr. C.M. Snape petitioning for early release from Azkaban Prison will now be heard. All those who wish to give testimony on this matter, approach and ye will be heard."  
  
Judge Petri looked up and scanned the room. "Petitioner has served the minimum sentence allowed by the Dark Wizard Paraphernalia Sanctions Act of 1969 and seeks release on account of good behavior. Is there anyone who will speak for the Petitioner?"  
  
A tall, thin gentleman with long white hair rose. "Avaris Malfoy, Your Honor," he said.  
  
"Please approach."  
  
The man had an impressive mien. He strode confidently to the Bench, polished black heels clicking on the floor. Asphora noticed his snake- headed cane.  
  
"Dark, very dark," she whispered to Dumbledore.  
  
He nodded.  
  
The bailiff administered the oath. "By the Mother and Father of All, may the truth alone leave my lips."  
  
"By the Mother and Father of All, may the truth alone leave my lips," Malfoy swore. "I have known the Petitioner since boyhood, and can vouch for him as a wizard and a citizen. He will return to his family, who has awaited his return with great anticipation. No constructive purpose will be served in keeping him in Azkaban."  
  
"With great anticipation my – "the healer sputtered angrily. "That bastard."  
  
"Watch and listen," Dumbledore whispered.  
  
"Any questions for this gentleman?" Judge Petri said, looking around the room. "There being none, you are excused. Thank you, sir."  
  
"Are you ready?" Dumbledore said. "Release your anger, for it will not help you here."  
  
"Absolutely."  
  
The hearing judge surveyed the room. "Anyone else? Very well. Is there anyone to speak against the Petitioner?"  
  
Dumbledore and LaChance stood as one.  
  
"We will speak against the granting of the Petition. May we approach?" the Headmaster asked in a ringing voice.  
  
Snape curled his lip. He knew the one, but who was the other? A ridiculous witch with a ridiculous hairdo! Asphora held two parchments in her left hand. What in the name of Seven Hells did she want with him?  
  
Dumbledore approached the bench. "For the record, I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."  
  
Once again, the bailiff stepped forward. "Kindly repeat after me. By the Mother and Father of All, may the truth alone leave my lips."  
  
"By the Mother and Father of All, may the truth alone leave my lips."  
  
"So noted," the judge said, nodding to the scrivener who busily scratched away with quill and parchment.  
  
"I am Asphora LaChance, Healer, St. Mungo's Hospital. I am also an employee of the Child Protection Services Bureau. By the Mother and Father of All, may the truth alone leave my lips."  
  
"So noted. What is your objection?"  
  
"We have many," Albus said.  
  
Both Malfoy and Snape Senior straightened.  
  
Raising his eyebrows, Judge Petri waved his hand in an outward gesture. "Kindly enlighten us, Professor Dumbledore."  
  
The old wizard stood proud, waves of White light radiating from his being. "This is a man who has abused his wife for years, and his son since babyhood." He nodded to the healer.  
  
"I wish to offer this parchment into evidence as an official St. Mungo's Hospital record detailing the first known instance of abuse," Healer LaChance said, solemnly handing it to the bailiff. "He fractured his baby's skull. Upon information and belief, the Petitioner had seized the infant and hurled him to the floor because he cried too much."  
  
The bailiff brought the parchment to the judge, who spent a few moments reading in silence. "I believe I would have cried a good deal myself," he remarked. Snape Senior and Avaris Malfoy grimaced.  
  
Asphora continued. "This same child – now sixteen years of age – is currently committed to St. Mungo's following a suicide attempt brought about by years of abuse at the hands of the Petitioner. He does not appear before you today because he is still too ill to be taken from the facility."  
  
Snape Senior growled. That sickly, puling, self-pitying whelp! When he got hold of him again, he would make the prospect of suicide look like a blessing from Heaven.  
  
"The second parchment you hold, Your Honor, is an official Hospital record detailing the boy's obliviated memories. As you know, this procedure is used only in the most extreme cases. I believe the document speaks for itself."  
  
"I object," Snape said. "I have no idea if that document is a false one, dreamed up between those two at the behest of my son."  
  
The Petitioner has not been sworn," the judge said. "Bailiff?"  
  
"Kindly repeat after me. By the Mother and Father of All, may the truth alone leave my lips."  
  
Snape sneered. "By the Mother and Father of All, may the truth alone leave my lips."  
  
"So noted," Petri remarked to the scrivener. The Judge then laid the parchments before him, then tapped each with his wand. "Reveal your secrets," he murmured. A faint shimmer appeared above them, a ghostly watermark of St. Mungo's Hospital was displayed on each.  
  
"They are genuine," Judge Petri intoned. "Objection denied."  
  
The room was silent during the minutes it took for the Judge to read the second document. He lifted his head, and his eye pierced the form of Confutatis Maledictis Snape. "I will have Aurors gather further information relating to your abuse of your son. You may well have some more jail time in your future, Mr. Snape."  
  
"We have yet another reason to petition against release in this matter," Dumbledore said. Lord Malfoy darted an uneasy glance at Snape, a sneer not unlike his son's appearing on his handsome face. "What is this farce?" he hissed.  
  
"Proceed," Petri said.  
  
From the other side of the round room, a door opened and a man in a wheelchair appeared, pushed by Sibelius Hammer. The healer brought his charge close to the bench, where Petri could see the man's constant twitching and trembling. Dumbledore stood next to him.  
  
"This man is Alonzo Tippett, who suffers permanent neurological damage due to the repeated application of the Cruciatus curse."  
  
"Bailiff? Kindly administer the oath."  
  
"If you would, sir," the bailiff said. "By the Mother and Father of All, may the truth alone leave my lips."  
  
Determination and pride emanated from the sick wizard. "By the Mother and Father of All, may the truth alone leave my lips."  
  
The judge nodded at the man. "Proceed, Mr. Tippett."  
  
"I was out in my back fields looking for my dog," the man stated, his voice as tremulous as his limbs. "when I came upon the light from a bonfire. Thinking it was naturally caused, I ran toward it. What I saw was a group of people wearing masks, standing before the fire. I believe there was – " the man halted, overcome by emotion – "– there was the remains of a human being tied to a stake in the middle of it."  
  
The man stopped to gather his thoughts and get his emotions under control. "They heard me. One of them froze me with his wand. Another came rushing toward me, but slipped on the wet grass and fell to his knee. His mask slipped, and I got a good view of his face."  
  
"This is ridiculous," Snape interjected.  
  
"No sir," Tippett said. "No, it is not. The light from the bonfire gave me a clear view, Your Honor. And then – I heard the word "Crucio!" from his lips and – well, my life was forever changed." The man dropped his head, tears streaming down his face.  
  
"Mr. Tippett," Judge Petri said. "Do you see this individual here today?"  
  
The man – still quaking in his chair – lifted his face and gazed into the judge's eyes. "I do. It is the man who said my testimony was ridiculous. Sib, move this chair around, do!"  
  
With half a swivel, Alonzo Tippett met the furious beetle-black eyes of Confutatis Maledictis Snape. His finger pierced the way to the man's black heart. "There. This is the man who cursed me. That man there! I will see his ugly Dark face until the day I die!"  
  
A buzz arose amidst the assembled observers. Asphora LaChance watched Snape's aura darken from deep purple to pitch black.  
  
Judge Petri looked around and then into the eyes of Albus Dumbledore, still standing by the man in the wheelchair. "It is my decision not to release Mr. C.M. Snape from custody, but to bind him over pending investigation and possible charges on child cruelty, two counts of attempted murder, and for using an Unforgivable. As you realize, Petitioner, conviction on the latter charge is punishable by the Dementor's Kiss."  
  
"Lies! All lies and falsehood! Dumbledore has influenced my son's feeble mind and weak will."  
  
"Speaking of lies and falsehoods, Mr. Snape," Judge Petri added, "We shall also look into additional charges for perjury. So ordered." He slammed down his gavel and rose. "This hearing is adjourned."  
  
Dumbledore looked around for Lord Malfoy, and was not surprised to see that the man had already left.  
  
"You fiend from Hell," Alonzo Tippett wept, still pointing at Snape. "You fiend from the Pit. I will live long enough to see your soul snatched, mark my words!"  
  
Asphora LaChance's righteous anger was up. Without hesitation, she also addressed the Elder Snape. "As will I," she hissed. "I will see you suffer as you made your innocent child suffer. And may the Furies haunt you in the afterlife." Her own aura boiled and glowed with tinges of fiery red.  
  
"Asphora," said Dumbledore. "Come along. We have good news to deliver to Severus."  
  
"And you, you crackbrained old donkey!" Snape shrieked. "Taken over my son's mind, have you? You're welcome to the mollycoddled little whelp! He'll never amount to anything!"  
  
"But he will, Mr. Snape," Albus calmly replied. "He will indeed. Even your evil couldn't break his strong spirit. I will give him your regards." Before he turned to leave, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry gave a little nod toward the Dark wizard.  
  
Two horns blossomed from the top of the man's head.  
  
-----------------  
  
Both witch and wizard apparated back to St. Mungo's, looking for and finally finding Severus working on a puzzle in the common room.  
  
"We have a surprise for you, honey," Asphora said.  
  
Sev stood up, his face sober. He wasn't used to surprises. Not nice ones, anyway. "What – is it?"  
  
"You might be interested in knowing that we both saw your father today," Albus Dumbledore said.  
  
Sev's face fell. His eyes widened, and his shoulders hunched with anxiety. "He's – out --? Is that where I'm going since you couldn't find my mother?" Severus cursed himself under his breath for being so terrified. Hadn't his time in the hospital helped with that?  
  
"Don't be afraid, sweetheart," said Asphora LaChance. "Today was the hearing on whether he should be released for time served. I do believe that he will end up getting kissed by something rather unpleasant instead."  
  
"What?" shrieked Severus.  
  
Dumbledore smiled. "His release was denied and he will face charges for child abuse, perjury, two counts of attempted murder, and for casting an Unforgivable. In other words, my dear boy, you need no longer live under his fearful shadow."  
  
Severus slapped his hands over his face and bent over, overwhelmed. "Oh gods," the boy gasped. "Oh gods. I can't – believe – it!" Both adults went to him to give their support.  
  
Dumbledore gathered the stick-thin boy in his arms and held him as he wept the burning tears of regret and the soothing tears of healing.  
  
"Thank you, Father," Severus whispered in his ear. 


	13. A Trust Betrayed

Chapter 13 – A Trust Betrayed  
  
Professor Sejanus Sartoris entered Headmaster Dumbledore's office, expecting to receive a progress report on young Snape. Instead, what he received from the Headmaster was far different indeed.  
  
"Have a seat, Sejanus, do," Albus said, gesturing toward a stuffed chair while Dumbledore stayed behind his podium desk.  
  
There wasn't even any tea. The Potions Master began to feel a quiver of trepidation.  
  
"I wanted to talk to you about a matter involving trust – my trust in you as one of my professors and Master of this School."  
  
Sartoris felt a prickle of apprehension run up his spine.  
  
Dumbledore peered at the man over his half-moon spectacles. "There is no sharper pain than a trust betrayed."  
  
"I am not sure what you mean, Albus," he returned evenly.  
  
"Of course you do. Like a viper, you have used this institution of learning to wind your coils around at least one of our young pupils."  
  
"I beg your pardon," Sartoris sniffed.  
  
His Slytherin arrogance didn't fool Dumbledore. "Let's not waste each other's time playing little games, Sartoris. You are a devotee of Tom Riddle, just as surely as Maledictis Snape, Avaris Malfoy, and a number of other pureblood wizards I could name. I know it and you know it."  
  
"My political affiliations are none of the school's business," Sartoris returned, his own power rising in his breast.  
  
"Political affiliations are none of the school's business, and therefore none of my business. However, law forbids the practice of the Dark arts. Rallying behind a Dark wizard who has designs on taking over the reins of the wizarding world is similarly proscribed. Those issues are, in fact, wholeheartedly my business – particularly when they involve the tutelage of our pupils."  
  
"Your charges are ridiculous. You have no grounds for making such accusations, Headmaster Dumbledore. How dare you!"  
  
Albus smiled, seeing through the Dark wizard's ruse. "How dare I? I have just returned from St. Mungo's, having paid yet another visit to a young man nearly ruined by ill-usage by Dark folk like his father – and by you too, for all I know."  
  
Sartoris sprang to his feet. "I have never harmed the Snape boy! Where is your proof?"  
  
Albus stood and walked around his desk, stopping a moment to stroke Fawkes' plumage. "I don't need any, Sejanus. You see, the hiring and firing of professors here is within my purview, and mine alone. Though you purport to care for young Severus, your interest has been, and remains, purely mercenary. Your Dark Lord wishes to use his potion making talents to wage war on those of us who choose to live in the Light. You even kept Severus alive after his poisoning not for him, but for your Dark Lord instead."  
  
"I deny it all!"  
  
"As is your right, Sejanus. As it is mine to sack your miserable, lying, and conniving carcass, right now." Dumbledore circled to the other side of the desk and waved his hand at a stack of books, transfiguring them into a comfortable Victorian-style wing chair. He took a seat. "That, of course, is up to you."  
  
The Potions Master dropped his eyes from Albus' face, and in that moment Dumbledore knew he had him.  
  
"Very well. I do follow the career of Lord Voldemort with some interest. But I deny harming Severus Snape or any other child under my care. If I hadn't been there to save him, Albus, he would have died in your arms shortly after the Holiday and you would have visited his grave today instead of St. Mungo's."  
  
"Granted, Sejanus," Dumbledore said, ringing for one of the elves, who instantly apparated with a loud pop.  
  
"What you be wanting, sirs?" she said with an awkward curtsey.  
  
"Tea – and some poppyseed lemon cake. Sejanus, what is your pleasure?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Very well," shrugged Dumbledore. "That will be all for now, Missy."  
  
"Very goods, Headmaster sir." She disapparated just as quickly.  
  
"It angers me no end to realize that for all this time you have been in league with that evil piece of filth who calls himself that boy's father, and behind my back. The child's prowess at Potions must be great for your Dark Lord to want him so badly."  
  
Sartoris raised his chin, and a very Malfoy-like sneer touched his lips. "He is an outstanding Potions student, I grant you that," he replied without a trace of emotion, "and thanks to my tutelage, I might add."  
  
"And Snape cudgeled and maltreated him since his earliest memories, all to make him needy enough to cling to anyone who showed him the slightest bit of attention later on – you, for instance. To ruin a young man's life in order to secure your Master another poison-merchant is beyond foul, Sejanus. It is, in fact, criminal."  
  
Sartoris' eyes widened. Was he going to be arrested?  
  
The elf suddenly appeared, bearing tea and cake. She transfigured another pile of books (for there were a great many cluttering the floor) into a small table, leaving it there.  
  
"Ah, good. And now, in fact, Professor Sartoris, it's time to talk about your future at Hogwarts. Cake?"  
  
The Potions Master sneered. "Let's get on with it, Albus."  
  
"Fine. Oh, lovely poppyseed cake! You really should give it a try!"  
  
The professor began to swear under his breath about a doddering old fool, and then remembered that the same doddering old fool had just handed him his own head. "No thank you, Headmaster. What are your conditions for keeping me employed here?"  
  
"No further contact with anyone known or even suspected by me to be a follower of Tom Riddle – who knows where he picked up that other name, let alone the appellation of 'Lord'! It just shows his arrogance, in my opinion. No further contact with anyone known or suspected by me to practice the Dark arts. In fact, I will keep a constant track of your whereabouts. You will not be permitted to communicate via owl or any other means unless I have approved the message beforehand. You will spend school holidays here, making yourself useful to this institution of learning by conducting scholarly pursuits, not advancing the overthrow of our method of government. If you want visitors, they will be welcome to visit you here – after I approve them, of course. And, of course, you will keep your hooks off Severus Snape or any other of the children under my care. In short, both you and your great 'Dark Lord' can go to the very devil for all I care."  
  
Sartoris made a noise of disgust.  
  
"Or," Dumbledore continued, "you can pack your bags and leave this place. And once you step beyond the boundaries of Hogwarts, I will notify the Ministry of Magic about your suspected activities and we will let the Aurors – or, better yet, the Dementors – sort it all out."  
  
The Headmaster took a swallow of tea, dribbling a drop onto his beard, which he blotted with a napkin. "Well then, Sejanus – what will your answer be?"  
  
The Dark wizard stood, his fists balled in anger. "I will stay, and under your conditions. The Potions Master at Durmstrang most likely won't die for another twenty years and I don't fancy waiting for another vacancy."  
  
"Very good. Thank you for coming by to see me. I really wish you'd try some of this cake. It really is marvelous!"  
  
Instead of a reply, the Headmaster received the slamming of his office door as Sejanus Sartoris swept from the room.  
  
"Fine," Dumbledore said, half to himself and half to Fawkes. "All the more for me!" 


	14. Dark Spells and Sad Farewells

Chapter 14 – Dark Spells and Sad Farewells

"I'm going there to see my mother

I'm going there no more to roam,  
  
I'm only going over Jordan

I'm only going over home."

- "Poor Wayfaring Stranger"  
  
American traditional song  
  
--------  
  
If it had been visible, the bubble of Dark magic over the Island of Crete would have looked like a great black and festering blister.  
  
Magic had always been strong on that Mediterranean isle. The Minoans – the people who populated Crete thousands of years before the Ancient Greeks – were a magic people, and the symbols of their magic included the Labrys or double-headed axe, the spiral, the bumblebee, and the serpent.  
  
As ancient as Crete's magic indeed was, no Dark spell had ever been cast over the land to cut it off from certain outside communications. That being the case, no one on the island had been on the alert for such a thing. Once Fawkes, Albus Dumbledore's phoenix, had discovered this black and blistery spell, it had proved to be impenetrable.  
  
Albus had done two things as soon as Confutatis Maledictis Snape's hearing had adjourned. First, he had himself named as Severus' legal guardian. Second, he joined forces with the magical bird; it was only then that the phoenix could penetrate the barrier and deliver a long-overdue message to Tenebria Lestrange Snape.  
  
----------  
  
"Great Mother," shouted her hostess and sister Ravenclaw, Tassos Vox. "This note is from Hogwarts!"  
  
The women read it, dark heads together. 

----------  
  
Lady T. Snape

C/o T. Vox

Knossos

Crete  
  
Dear Lady Snape,

This is to advise you that your son is ill and is a patient at St. Mungo's Hospital in London.

His situation is stable and he is in good hands. He would like to see you, of course, as soon as possible.

Kindly communicate with me via Floo and I will be happy to escort you there.  
  
Very truly yours,

Albus Dumbledore

Headmaster

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

-------------  
  
"My poor Sevi!" Tenebria cried.  
  
"I can floo you as far as Hogsmeade if you want to go with the Headmaster," Tassos Vox replied. "Now calm down. I'm sure he's all right."  
  
"He's gone through so much, and it's all my fault!" Tenebria wailed.  
  
"I'm sure you're right – how you could have stood that creature you married for as long as you have is a miracle to me. But that's neither here nor there. Get ready and I'll send you on your way."  
  
---------------  
  
It sometimes seemed to Severus Snape that he slept far longer here at the Hospital than he had anywhere else.  
  
Counseling took a lot of energy, and it seemed to Sev that he was either ranting or crying most of the time. The Headmaster had told him that the best source of fuel for such a task was ice cream. Sev had agreed, and was eating more than his fair share each day.  
  
Asphora LaChance was delighted to see his appetite improve. He was also taking the initiative and getting himself up and dressed in the mornings. She told him that in another week or so, she would talk to his headmaster about working on some schoolwork during the day as well.  
  
Sev had been withdrawn and apprehensive of others since he had arrived at St. Mungo's and had been in no hurry to chat with other patients. However, the collective children of the Kiddie Snuff Ward (as a few wags called it) were flooed to a gorgeous spot in the country every morning after breakfast. They were plunked into the middle of a field strewn with soft grasses and wildflowers, along with a pile of barely serviceable broomsticks, some extremely battered pieces of Quidditch equipment, and other wizarding children's games and toys. Severus really never quite figured out exactly where on Earth they were, since it was winter in England.  
  
The children were encouraged to play Quidditch with one another. Of course, the pitch (that is, the meadow) had been specially charmed so that a falling child would slow down and come to a complete stop inches above the ground. There were also invisible barriers in the sky to keep more adventuresome patients (as well as those who were just plain sick and tired of St. Mungo's) within the general area.  
  
"It's like the electrical yard barrier some Muggles have for their dogs," a boy named Rick Spiller had spouted indignantly. His statement had made Severus laugh, and before too much longer (and much to Sev's surprise), the two boys began conversing with one another.  
  
"Why won't they just let us read or work on a puzzle?" said Severus, longing for the type of solitary leisure activity to which he was accustomed.  
  
"Because it's isn't 'therapeutic' to be by yourself, they say," Rick Spiller said.  
  
Severus' sharp tongue and dry wit got the better of him. "So it's more therapeutic to be surrounded by other nutters in addition to yourself?" he said.  
  
Rick thought that was hilarious, and said so. "What you here for, anyway?"  
  
"Drank poison," Severus said, shrugging.  
  
"Me too," Rick had returned. "I was pretty good at Potions at Beauxbatons."  
  
"I go to Hogwarts and study Potions there. Do you know a girl named Britomartis Vox, by any chance?"  
  
"Nup, don't. Doesn't matter. They threw me out anyway."  
  
"They did?" Sev responded, surprised.  
  
"Well, I've done it three different times, and they gave up on me. Besides that, the Potions Master nearly had a nervous collapse over it. I didn't like Beauxbatons anyway," young Spiller had rejoined. "It's a poof school, in my opinion. I wouldn't mind heading for Durmstrang or Hogwarts, but my parents won't pay tuition if all I'm going to do at school is try to kill myself. I'm staying home, working in my parents' shop for a year."  
  
"Did you play Quidditch at Beauxbatons?" Severus asked.  
  
"Yup. You?"  
  
Sev nodded, hoping that he could actually pull off such a lie.  
  
"Want to join the game?"  
  
"No time like the present."  
  
From that morning on, Severus Snape had joined every Quidditch game. He was just good enough so that the other children thought he was a bit of a star at it, too. He confessed his fib after a few days, but the other patients didn't seem to care. It seemed that they too had been guilty of stretching the truth when reality looked too frightening.  
  
It felt good to exercise and get a suntan. It felt good to be able to play like kids ordinarily do; Severus had never been given that liberty. It took away some of his awkward feelings of isolation.  
  
Young Severus had also been so cheered by the fact that the great Albus Dumbledore was now his guardian that he ended up crying rather than laughing over it.  
  
"Now you really are my child!" the Headmaster had chuckled. "Dry your eyes now, dear boy, it isn't that bad!"  
  
"I'm – not – crying – because of that," Sev managed to say between dry spaces in his crying jag.  
  
"I know, Severus, I know!" Dumbledore responded, patting him on the back.  
  
----------  
  
The children had all gone in for naps after Quidditch and lunch. Severus had just awakened, and lay on his back with his eyes still closed.  
  
He listened to the Hospital sounds around him. The little girl two beds down was crying. Her mother had recently thrown her down the stairs. Sev identified; he had been thrown down every staircase in Snape Mansion and down more than just a few at Hogwarts as well. It bloody well hurt, not to mention the fact that your pride got bruised as well.  
  
Funny, he thought. I thought I heard my mother's voice. Impossible. He sighed, ready to slip back under and sleep some more.  
  
"Severus?" said Albus Dumbledore.  
  
Snape's eyes flew open. Seeing his guardian and mentor, he sat up and smiled.  
  
"I have a special surprise for you today!"  
  
"Um – maple walnut ice cream this time?" Sev ventured.  
  
"Something better. Come in, my dear," he said, motioning to the doorway.  
  
"My sweet baby," Lady Snape cried. "Oh, my Sevi!"  
  
The boy was motionless and remained so well into her third hug and fifth kiss. "Mama – you really – came?"  
  
She stepped back and smiled at him. She was beautiful as always, and looked far less tired and stressed as she had appeared for most of Sev's life. "The Dark Lord – or someone Dark , at any rate – kept me from receiving Headmaster Dumbledore's messages telling me you were here, darling," she said, sitting on the side of the bed. "I had no idea. As soon as I found out, I came right away!"  
  
"Did you have a good time?" he asked.  
  
"I did," she said. "But now I'm back here – and your father is still in Azkaban and likely to remain so indefinitely, according to your headmaster."  
  
"I'm so happy to see you, Mama," Severus said, hugging her and looking up at Dumbledore with a look more resembling sadness than happiness.  
  
---------  
  
In the next few days that followed, Severus told his mother what had happened, why he had drunk the poison, and what he had learned in the Hospital about it. While he was getting better a little bit more each day, Lady Snape went back and reopened the Manor only to find that she abhorred the place even more than she remembered. She put it on the market almost at once, complete with all its gloomy furnishings, save her son's and her own personal possessions.  
  
"I hope you don't mind, Sevi," she sighed, sitting next to him in the common room where he halfheartedly put together a puzzle depicting the Hogwarts Express.  
  
Hogwarts. The last place he could go now, it seemed. Home Sweet Home. Home with his guardian who would probably stop being his guardian now that his mother had returned. A lump rose in the boy's throat.  
  
"Mama," he said, looking into eyes, as dark and liquid as his own. "It's all right. Sell the house. I hate it. It has nothing but bad memories for me."  
  
"I thought I might – travel – after you get out of here, Sevi," she said, her eyes dropping to her hands.  
  
"It's all right, Mama," he said.  
  
She looked up at him. "What's all right?" she said, apprehensively.  
  
"I'm getting big, Mama. I mostly live at school now."  
  
"I know that, but still – "  
  
"You told me once that you really didn't ever want to be a wife and mother. Remember that? You said you'd wanted to devote your life to study."  
  
"I'm sorry I ever said that. All the same, I'm not sure what you're getting at, my sweet boy."  
  
"Well," Severus said, laying down his puzzle piece and picking up his mother's hand. "This is your chance, don't you see?"  
  
"I never really ever thought of it that way," she said, "but I've always wanted to study art in Italy, you know."  
  
Sev picked up her other hand and held both in between his own. "Then do it, Mama. You can visit me when you're in England. And we can always floo or owl each other. Maybe I can come visit you in – wherever you're going to end up."  
  
She dropped her head. Severus felt a tear fall on his hand. "Oh, don't cry, Mama. I've seen you cry far too often as it is."  
  
"I'm so sorry that I was such a poor excuse of a mother to you, my poor baby. I didn't protect you when I should have. And now after spending the Holidays away from you, I hate the thought of saying goodbye again so soon."  
  
"It's all right, Mama," Sev said, lifting her chin so they looked into each other's remarkably similar eyes. "I think you should sell the Manor and use the money to fulfill your dreams. Why not?"  
  
"Half that money is yours, Sevi," she returned. "I'll put it in your account at Gringott's – before I go."  
  
"That's the spirit, Mama!"  
  
"Perhaps Professor Dumbledore can just remain your guardian, sweetheart. Would that be all right with you?"  
  
"Sure," said her fifteen-year-old only child, hugging her tightly.  
  
----------  
  
Unfortunately, the reality of being totally without parents hit Severus hard over the next few days. When Sib or Asphora weren't sitting with him talking it through, Headmaster Dumbledore was.  
  
He had obtained permission to go with Sev to the Sunny Meadow, and now sat with him as he wept.  
  
"I guess I must have meant all those things I said," he moaned. "So why do I feel so bad?"  
  
"Well, my boy, I think your half-grown man side said those things, but your half-grown boy side feels very lonely about it."  
  
Sev rolled over, looking up into the fresh green leaves of the tree that shaded both of them. "I feel guilty," he said, his throat tightening.  
  
"About what, Severus?"  
  
"I guess – I can't say this, Headmaster."  
  
"Give me a try?"  
  
He shook his head.  
  
Albus simply sat in the confident way he had, waiting for the silence to spin out between them. And – as always – his tactic worked.  
  
Severus sighed. "I thought that – if she stayed – "  
  
"Yes, son?"  
  
"– you wouldn't be my guardian any more! I know I'm being punished for thinking that!"  
  
Albus chuckled softly, brushing the boy's hair out of his face. "And who would punish you?"  
  
"I don't know – the god who punishes bad sons, I guess."  
  
"But you're not a bad son, Severus."  
  
More silence. A clover-scented breeze riffled their clothing and hair.  
  
"I'm – not?"  
  
"No, you're not. In fact, you gave her a very great gift. Do you know what that is?"  
  
Sev gazed at Dumbledore. "Is it the gift of – freedom?"  
  
The old wizard nodded.  
  
Sev sighed again. "She sold the Manor because it reminded her of her awful marriage. And she liked being away from me because I look just like my awful father."  
  
"Well, Severus, I'm not sure I would put it just that way," the Headmaster said. "But that's the general idea."  
  
Sev began to cry again, covering his face with his hands. "Why do I have to look like him, anyway?" he sobbed. "Why can't I get away from him like she has?"  
  
Dumbledore placed his hand over the boy's hands. "Calm down, my child. It was once told to me that I looked like my Great Aunt Enid. And I vow and pledge to you that at the time I thought her to be the ugliest woman on Earth."  
  
Severus laughed from beneath his hands.  
  
"Of course, I suppose she really wasn't after all," Dumbledore continued. "But the comment made quite an impression on me. For years I squinted into mirrors, hoping like mad that I wouldn't see Great Aunt Enid!"  
  
He squeezed Sev's hands and gently brought them off his face.  
  
"I suppose things could be worse," the boy sighed, looking into Dumbledore's kind blue eyes.  
  
"Things could be a lot worse. For example, you might have died from that poison, Severus – and you would have died without the gift of being comforted by a good many people, and helped by a good many more."  
  
Sev pushed himself up and wrapped his arms around his bent legs, sighing into the breeze. "I would never have belonged to you, either," he said in a choked voice. He dropped his face onto his knees.  
  
"No, you wouldn't," the old wizard agreed. "And now it appears that I will get to learn how to be a mother as well as father to you!"  
  
Sev looked up at him, surprised and blinking through his tears. Then he saw his mentor smile, and returned it.  
  
Dumbledore pulled him into a huge hug, then tousled the Slytherin boy's hair and watched him run off to join his friends in a friendly game of Quidditch.


	15. My Life by Severus S

My Life By Severus S.  
  
I'm all alone

Here lying prone

So scared of Home.

My father screams

My mother weeps

I have bad dreams.

My mum he bashes

Down halls he crashes

It's me he thrashes.

In fear I moan

He likes my groans

When he breaks bones.

He calls me weak

My future's bleak

Dark wizard freak.

I'm on my bed

He hurt my head

Wish I was dead.

My mother tries

To sympathise

As my soul dies.

I go to school

Marauders rule

To me they're cruel.

Such pranks they play

To spoil my day

I'm easy prey.

I'm on the brink

My spirits sink

So Death I drink.

I've been real bad

Nightmares I had

And woke up mad.

Don't want to try

I just got by

I hoped to die.

Recovery's slow

They'll let me know

To Hogwarts go.

Mum's freedom calls

No more dark halls

Or dark four walls.

Shonsey's my friend

To help me mend

My fear to end.

And Dumbledore

Who won't ignore

My need for more.

He's now my dad

I'm now his lad

We're both so glad.

Bad verse I try

Rhymes I apply

For now, goodbye!

TBC


	16. The Root of it All

Chapter 16 - The Root of It All  
  
"Let's talk about those four boys from Gryffindor House, Sev," said Asphora LaChance. She was wearing a pretty dotted Swiss dress with lace embellishments around collar and cuffs.  
  
"Let's not and say we did," Severus Snape replied, curling his long arms and legs into a fetal knot.  
  
"Sev," the healer said. "Why did you take on protective coloration right now?"  
  
"Protective coloration? What is that supposed to mean?" the Slytherin boy snapped.  
  
Miss LaChance chuckled. "Sorry. It was an analogy. Sometimes animals like chameleons turn color so they won't be seen. What I meant is that you curled up in a ball as if you were about to be hurt and wanted to disappear. I wondered why – that's all."  
  
The boy gradually came out of his crouch to rest against an oak tree. He amused himself by throwing the acorns one by one into a stand of bushes just to see if he could throw that far. He had always been dismal at athletics.  
  
"Sorry I was snotty just now," he said.  
  
"No problem, Sev. The more anger you release during your stay with us means the less you'll have to deal with when you return to school. You do want to return to school, don't you?"  
  
Severus shrugged. "My throat hurts."  
  
"That's called avoidance, my young friend! We'll see to that when we disapparate. You might be cooking an infection from your throat surgery. However. You need to answer my question first, please."  
  
"I suppose I'll go back. Nowhere else to go."  
  
Asphora reached forward and gently brushed the boy's aura with her fingertips.  
  
Severus flinched. "Sorry for that," he said, hoping that she realized the response was automatic.  
  
"That's all right. You've had your reasons."  
  
"What are you doing?" the child said.  
  
"Getting a reading on your state of mind, honey. Hold a moment." Asphora exhaled and rubbed her shoulders. "Whew. You're very Dark today, sweetheart. Lots of fear, lots of jealousy, lots of resentment and rage."  
  
"That sounds about right," Snape said, dipping his head so that his hair hung in his face.  
  
"We'll see what we can do about that. We'll talk here for a while. Then you can visit with Aloysius and Sibelius. And finally, your Headmaster has promised to come visit you tonight. Sound good?"  
  
Severus looked up with a slight smile. "Yes," he said.  
  
"You love your Headmaster," the healer began. "I know that. But you're also quite angry at him. Does it have to do with his failure to stop that group of boys who are in his own House?"  
  
Sev nodded. "They're always right and I'm always wrong, it seems. Except when I ran off into the Forbidden Forest. They got in trouble for that – prank." He involuntarily shuddered.  
  
"That was more than just a prank, Severus. It was nearly soul-murder." Asphora tipped her head and looked at the child. "And I'll bet you're afraid of more confrontations with them when you return, aren't you?"  
  
Severus nodded again.  
  
"You miss your friend at Beauxbatons. She always stood with you when that group of boys did something to annoy or harm you."  
  
"I miss her with all my heart. But I know I have to get over it because she's obviously forgotten all about me. I'm nothing but a baby and a mess without her."  
  
"I think you're doing fine, sweetie. Let's go slow and take it one step at a time. Why don't you tell me how the trouble with that group of boys – the Marauders, I believe they call themselves -- started?"  
  
Severus sighed deeply, sliding further down the tree trunk until his head touched the ground. "Ouch," he said, reaching underneath him. "Lousy acorns."  
  
Asphora LaChance smiled. "Just like life, huh?" she joshed.  
  
Sev smiled. "Great aches from little acorns grow," he punned.  
  
Asphora threw her head back and laughed.  
  
"That was marvelous, Sev!" she chuckled.  
  
"It was good, wasn't it? All right, then," the Dark child said, smiling at his own joke. "Here we go. The sad story of Snivellus and the Marauders -- "  
  
-----------  
  
They had all met on the Hogwarts Express that September day. All were first- years and nobody had a clear idea of what school would be like.  
  
After Remus Lupin, James Potter, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew introduced themselves to one another, all eyes turned to the sulky black- haired boy who sat scrunched up against the train window, his large nose in a book. Several other volumes rested on his lap.  
  
"I think I know who you are," Sirius Black said. "I think my folks know your folks."  
  
"How fascinating," the boy replied, scanning them with his pitch-black eyes. "Severus Snape. Charmed, I'm sure." He rolled his eyes and returned to his reading.  
  
Severus was a child who had endured a lifetime of abuse. He trusted no one. People made him afraid. He had never really had any friends when he was younger, so never learned the social graces that other children had. Others perceived him as rude and abrupt, and his behavior today was no exception.  
  
"Snobby git, isn't he?" Sirius Black said. He did not like his own family as it was, and saw no reason to like the Snapes either.  
  
James Potter, who wore round horn rimmed glasses and sported a bad haircut, nodded. "His mama never taught him any manners."  
  
"His dad never taught him manners, either," Pettigrew (the rotund blonde boy) added.  
  
Severus blinked hard. His dad had taught him many things, none of them good.  
  
The door of their train compartment suddenly slid open, revealing a witch with a pushcart of goodies. "Want anything, dears?" she asked. All five boys perked up and made their respective purchases. Remus Lupin – the quiet ginger-haired boy – bought five packets of Chocolate Frogs and handed them out.  
  
"Thanks, Remus," Sirius Black said, opening his. "I've got Dumbledore!"  
  
"So do I," echoed James Potter.  
  
"They must have printed a lot of them, because that's who we got too," said Pettigrew, motioning toward Lupin. "And what does the snotty git smushed up against the windows have?"  
  
Without a word, Severus Snape held up his card.  
  
"Salazar Slytherin," Black whispered. "Snotnose Snape must be a Dark wizard- in-training."  
  
"I wonder where he'll get sorted?" said Peter Pettigrew.  
  
"Are you ignorant?" James Potter retorted. "He's a nasty little snake. I'll wager that the Sorting Hat will put him in Slytherin House."  
  
Severus shrugged, tucking his card in his shirt pocket and biting off the head of his chocolate frog. "Much obliged for the candy," he said to Remus. He then turned back to his reading.  
  
"What's the book?" said Pettigrew. Already, he was showing his hand as a nosy and ignorant boy.  
  
"Let us have a look, Snake-Boy," laughed James Potter.  
  
Snape said nothing, holding the volume tightly. He leaned forward slightly to guard the books on his lap, as if expecting an attack. Severus was used to attacks.  
  
Sirius Black – easily the tallest eleven-year-old in the group – darted forward and snatched the book out of Snape's hands. "Let's see here. This is the Die Unaussprechlichen Kulten."  
  
The other boys chuckled at Black's attempt to pronounce the German words. Potter's arm darted out to block Severus, who had launched himself over sideways to snatch it back.  
  
"Oooooooh, how faaaaascinating!" Pettigrew squeaked.  
  
"Easy, Severus Snot. We're just having a look. Remus – pick those other grimoires off the floor and toss 'em over here."  
  
Severus managed to shove Potter's arm away from him and reached forward to snatch the sides of Sirius Black's long hair, tugging it hard with both hands. He knew all about inflicting pain, having frequently been on the receiving end of it himself.  
  
"Geroff him," Potter shouted, grabbing the boy's bony shoulder. Black seized the boy's wrists and squeezed them so hard that Severus let go of his hair. That done, Potter yanked him back to his seat.  
  
"Give me my books," Snape growled, fists clenched. "Give them to me right now."  
  
"Oh, hold off, won't you, Snots?" Sirius Black said. "Touch me again and I'll blow you away like smoke." He sorted through the volumes as if he was in a bookstore contemplating a purchase. "Let's see. The Nec – Neckru – oh, hells. The Necronomicon by some Arab guy named -- Abdool Ahazery, or some such. I don't know. This one is by somebody named Ludvig Prinn. De Vermis Mysteriis. Sounds riveting, Snotty the Snake-Boy! What's that one on the floor, Remus?"  
  
The slender quiet boy handed Black the volume.  
  
"Hmmmm. De Furtivis Literarum Notis, by um -- Giovanni blah blah Battista blah blah della blah Porta. Looks like the reptile over there knows Latin. Is that right, Slithery?"  
  
"Give – me – my – books," Snape snarled. "Final warning."  
  
"What are you going to do to us if we don't, Snottynose?" James retorted.  
  
Without another word, Snape pulled his wand from his sleeve, whispered a few words, and turned them all into lizards.  
  
"Call me a reptile again, you horses' asses, and I'll make the change permanent." He laughed, watching them crawling about the train seats in confusion. With another wave of his wand, he changed them back.  
  
The future Marauders looked at one another in a state of astonishment. "You bloody little snake!" Black spat. "Try that again and I'll cram these books down your throat."  
  
Disgustedly, he flung them at the boy, who picked them up and put them into a satchel that lay slung over his left shoulder. Then – without another word – Snape got up and left the train compartment, never to return.  
  
"What in the name of Seven Hells was that all about?" Pettigrew said.  
  
"I don't think we're allowed to do magic yet," said Remus Lupin. "Are we?"  
  
"That kid is dead meat next time he comes 'round me," Black growled.  
  
----------  
  
"Not an auspicious beginning," Asphora LaChance sighed.  
  
"Not at all. It seems like we all stepped in it the moment we met one another. It gets worse, you know."  
  
"Really?" the psychic counselor replied. "I'm listening!"  
  
----------  
  
The children had been offloaded from the train into horseless carriages. Nobody but Severus knew that they weren't horseless after all, but drawn by thestrals. His father sometimes used them as part of his Dark rituals.  
  
The boat ride was next; he was in the same boat as that Loopy kid or whatever his name was. Severus was surprised that the boy didn't taunt him, but only looked at him with his old and weary eyes.  
  
And then it was on to Professor McGonagall (considerably younger) and the Great Hall. She explained the Sorting Ceremony and began on the newly arrived First Years at once. Those four gits on the train were all sorted to Gryffindor; Sev relaxed somewhat since he didn't really consider himself Gryffindor material. He knew that his father wanted him in Slytherin House, which was enough to make him pray for Ravenclaw.  
  
"SEVERUS SNAPE?"  
  
And then – it was his turn.  
  
The four boys at the Gryffindor table watched him approach the stool, all hissing and making sideways snaky motions with their hands. Professor McGonagall placed the hat over his head. Severus closed his eyes and hoped for the best.  
  
"Another Snape, eh?" it said. "Slytherins first and Dark wizards second. Looks like your family tree only produces bitter fruit!"  
  
"I can't help that, you know," Severus growled as harshly as he could.  
  
"Such a Dark head on these boy-shoulders; his head's crammed full of forbidden arts and his hide bears the marks of his father's hatred. Unloved and unlovable. Sad, very sad."  
  
To his absolute horror, Severus Snape's eyes overflowed with tears. He tried to stop them.  
  
No I will not cry I will NOT cry Stop that STOP IT YOU IDIOT DON'T CRY IN FRONT OF ALL THESE STRANGERS!!!!!!!!!  
  
The Sorting Hat ignored his tears. "Broken heart or broken bones, boy; tell me which is worse if you can! No place for you except - SLYTHERIN!"  
  
Despondent, Severus waited for Professor McGonagall to remove the hat, rubbing his eyes like mad. Hanging his head so that his greasy hair covered his face, he stood up and managed to put one foot in front of the other towards the proper table.  
  
Slytherin.  
  
Great gods, Slytherin!  
  
Damn it all, his mother had been a Ravenclaw!  
  
"Cry baby cry, stick your finger in your eye, and tell your Mum it wasn't I," James Potter hissed as he passed by.  
  
"BOOOOOOOOOOO HOOOOOOOOOO," Remus Lupin added.  
  
"Bawl baby bawl; look at the baby bawl!" Peter Pettigrew remarked, grinning and pointing.  
  
"I liked the name Snotnose all right, but here's one I like even better – Snivellus!" Sirius Black crowed triumphantly. "Snivellus Snape! That's it!" Black stood up and bowed. He received a polite smattering of applause.  
  
"Shove it upside down and sideways, Sillyass Black," Severus hissed in reply.  
  
"Wooooh, I'm so frightened I might mess meself," Black cried, grinning. "Your robe probably weighs more than you do, Snivellus!"  
  
Severus gave him a rude hand gesture familiar to most schoolchildren, not caring if the faculty saw him or not.  
  
----------  
  
Sev managed to find a seat in the front of the Slytherin House table. He raised his head and glared at his Housemates in case they had a couple of nasty comments for him. Nobody did, because the Sorting was over and Headmaster Dumbledore now stood, waiting for quiet.  
  
"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts," he boomed. "We are happy to welcome our First Years in particular. I would like to say a few words. They are nitwit, pucker, isostasy, and antidisestablishmentarianism." Having gotten it all out on one breath, the Headmaster inhaled deeply and then raised his arms. "Enjoy the feast!"  
  
Food of all sorts appeared before the students; young eyes sparkled as the children aimed their forks for the nearest platter and began to spear the choicest morsels.  
  
Severus didn't eat much as a rule; his father had cursed his digestive system so many times that it really didn't work as well as it might have. Any rich food made him sick. He knew that was why he was so small and thin, but he really couldn't help it.  
  
The Dark child looked around at the tablesful of lively boys and girls chatting and eating, and realized that he wasn't one of them and couldn't be if he tried for a thousand years. He sat there for a few minutes, gazing around him, and then stood and stepped over the long bench seating his Housemates and began to walk down the long central corridor.  
  
"Bye bye Snivellus," Black cried, waving madly from the Gryffindor table. "Off to blow your nose? You'd better before somebody sics up their supper!"  
  
Making sure that his nose in fact did not need wiping, Snape ignored him as he pushed his way through the massive double doors.  
  
--------  
  
It was already full dark outside. Severus didn't know where to go or what he was supposed to do next, so he sat down on one of the cold marble steps with a deep sigh. He hadn't been here for half a day and he'd already managed to make four enemies and no friends.  
  
He remembered the Black kid now; his own father had said that Sirius was the "black sheep" of the Black family. Severus hadn't really understood what the senior Snape meant at the time. Reflecting upon it now, Sev correctly deduced that Black's family didn't really want him.  
  
"Join the Club, Sillyass," he murmured, fingers digging into his thighs.  
  
"Now which club might that be, Mr. Snape?" a voice asked from a stand of bushes to his right.  
  
Caught off guard (which Severus knew to be a highly dangerous practice), he whipped his head around in the direction of the melodious and somewhat comforting voice.  
  
"Forgive me," said Albus Dumbledore, walking over to him. "I noticed that you might have a case of First Year nerves. It's very common, my boy; I've seen hundreds of students with it." The Headmaster gestured to the right side of the cold marble steps. "Might I sit a moment?"  
  
Stunned speechless and seized up with fear, Severus nodded. What had he done now? When his own father sat next to him like that it was to grab his hair and punch him in the face, or to drag him off to participate in some disgusting and painful Dark ritual.  
  
"Another Snape to grace our Halls," Dumbledore said, seating himself and smiling at the undersized and shivering child. "And I remember your mother very well. A Ravenclaw, if I'm not much mistaken. You have her eyes."  
  
Severus nodded, keeping his face averted. His own father considered a look in the eye a gesture of intimidation and acted accordingly. "Yes, sir," he answered.  
  
Dumbledore reached over to smooth the hair from the boy's face; Severus cried out in panic as the fingertips touched his forehead. He launched himself off the steps and crawled under the nearest stand of bushes to the left.  
  
Once he realized what he had done, excruciating embarrassment took the place of any involuntary fear he might have felt a few moments ago. "I'm sorry, sir," he said, his thin body curled in a ball and his forehead touching his knees. "I – didn't mean to be rude to you. I just don't like – "  
  
"– To be touched, is that right? Well, Mr. Snape, I know you have your reasons and I would be happy to honor your request. Come and sit; I promise not to touch you, all right, my boy?"  
  
Sev hesitated. This man had called him "his boy" twice now. What did that mean? Why would anyone want to claim a nasty useless brat like him for, anyway?  
  
"It's perfectly all right if you stay where you are, of course," the Headmaster added. "I may be as old as the Hills but am not adverse to crawling under my bed during violent thunderstorms!" He gave a kindly smile to the boy still cowering in the bushes.  
  
"Do you really?" Severus asked, raising his head.  
  
"I swear it," he said. "Silly, I know, but I think silliness is a perfectly acceptable characteristic of a good wizard – or a good student. I have the feeling that you are very bright, Mr. Snape."  
  
Sev nodded. "I hope so, sir."  
  
"I think that you will find Hogwarts a better home than the one you left, child. In case you find making new friends difficult, see Professor Penderdandis, your Head of House, or Miss Price, your House Mother, as they are sure to help. Of course, I will always do what I can to help you as well."  
  
Severus nodded and slowly rose, brushing dirt off the seat of his only pair of trousers. "Thank you, sir," he replied quietly, stepping toward the steps.  
  
"Come ahead," Dumbledore said. "I'm a man who keeps his promises."  
  
Sev approached gingerly, and then sat down on the very edge of the cold marble. "Thank you, Headmaster."  
  
"You're very welcome, Mr. Snape. Now. I know the house elves have prepared ice cream for dessert tonight. I'll bet you're a man who likes his ice cream."  
  
Severus shook his head. "I've – never had any, sir," he said.  
  
Dumbledore gasped as if he had been alarmed at the boy's statement; Severus shuddered and scooted away from him. Instantly sensing the child's fear, the Headmaster smiled his kindly smile. "Oh no, Mr. Snape, you misunderstood me! I just know you're going to enjoy a special treat tonight."  
  
Severus looked up at him. "What kind is – the ice cream?"  
  
"Well, it's my understanding that tonight's offerings will include strawberry, French vanilla, and pistachio."  
  
"What kind do you like?" the boy whispered.  
  
"Oh, I'm not picky," the wizard said. "I'm partial to pistachio, though, when the elves make it for us."  
  
"What is that like?"  
  
"It contains some very tasty nutmeats in it," Dumbledore continued, "but the highly shocking thing about it is that it's – well – green!"  
  
"Green?" Sev echoed, smiling back at the man. "Does it taste good?"  
  
"My boy, it is the absolute best!" the Headmaster said, getting up off the low steps with a groan. "You'd think that an arthritic old man like me would know better than sit on steps!"  
  
Severus came right over to him, took his arm, and pulled him up. "There," the child said. "There you go."  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Snape," Dumbledore replied, delighted that Severus had been able to touch his sleeve. "I think we should both go in and eat as much pistachio ice cream as we can hold!"  
  
Severus grinned, pulling the heavy door open. He grinned because he'd taste ice cream for the very first time, and because the very first wizard he'd met in this strange new place hadn't wanted to inflict pain upon him.  
  
When eleven-year-old Severus Snape walked back through the Great Hall with Albus Dumbledore, the greatest White wizard in the world, he felt positively special.  
  
And he would love pistachio ice cream for the rest of his days – not because of the taste, but because it reminded him of the kindly headmaster who had made him feel so welcome.  
  
-----------  
  
"That is a wonderful memory, Sev," Healer LaChance said. "It really is. And you see? He was looking out for you since the beginning, wasn't he? What I would also like to know is how your Headmaster favored the Marauders over you. Can you tell me about that?"  
  
Obviously agitated by her request, Severus took an acorn and hurled it at a nearby silver maple tree. It cracked against the tree's rough bark and fell in two pieces.  
  
"Bull's eye," the boy whispered.  
  
----------- 


	17. Severus and the Dragon

"This is the fourth time this week that the activities of these five  
First-Year boys have been brought to my attention," Albus Dumbledore said.

"As their Heads-of-Houses, respectively, I want your input."  
  
The Headmaster picked up a parchment and began to read its lengthy list  
of transgressions.  
  
"Professor Sartoris was prepared to give an examination; he'd placed the  
test papers on his desk and started to lecture the students about the  
test process. He'd been speaking for about thirty seconds before the  
whole stack of tests burst into flames. Suspects included Pettigrew,  
Potter, Black, Lupin, and/or Snape. Disposition: No action taken due to  
lack of proof."  
  
The Headmaster sighed.  
  
"During a lesson involving freezing potions, Sirius Black placed a  
sausage in one of the fingers of his laboratory gloves – poured the  
potion over said finger – then grabbed a hammer and smashed the frozen  
sausage. The end of the glove burst open and real meat flew across the  
room. Several Gryffindor girls passed out and Mr. Snape lost his  
breakfast. Disposition: Five points from Gryffindor."  
  
The teachers all suppressed smirks. They couldn't help it.  
  
"Black turned Snape's textbooks into chicken livers. In retaliation,  
Snape turned Black's nose into a trumpet. Disposition: Five points from  
Gryffindor, ten points from Slytherin because Snape hexed a person  
instead of an inanimate object."  
  
Dumbledore scanned down the parchment. "Ah, yes. Potter transfigured  
Snape's tie into a garter snake. Although Snape was actually pleased to  
have such a fine snake, he transfigured his quill into a piece of horse  
dung that he speared with his wand and used to chase Potter out of the  
classroom. Disposition: Five points from Gryffindor, fifteen points from  
Slytherin due to the total disruption of class."  
  
Barely-suppressed laughter.  
  
"Pettigrew caused Snape's inkwell to explode, showering both Snape and  
Professor Sartoris (who unfortunately had just come over to take a look  
at Mr. Snape's cauldron) with ink. Snape replaced Mr. Pettigrew's ears  
with batwings. Disposition: Detention for Pettigrew, ten points from  
Slytherin because Snape hexed a person instead of an inanimate object  
after having been warned. Oh dear. Here's another. Snape caused eels to  
fall from Lupin's lips during choir practice. In retaliation, Lupin  
changed Snape's singing voice to high soprano and asked Professor  
Terpsichore when she'd begun recruiting castrati. Disposition: Five  
points from Gryffindor, five points from Slytherin."  
  
Professors Penderdandis and McGonagall were both red-faced in their  
efforts to keep from breaking out in hysterics.  
  
Albus tried his level best to appear serious. "Your thoughts, Gallo?"  
  
"First of all, perhaps you've been just a bit heavy-handed with the  
penalties to my House, Albus. One wouldn't want to give the impression  
that you favor your own."  
  
Painful silence.  
  
"Severus is a loner. Very bright, very afraid of being touched or being  
wrong. Has a good deal of trouble just – getting along. I have the  
feeling that nobody ever taught him the social graces that children  
generally learn before they come to Hogwarts. Doesn't surprise me. His  
father is a terror, his mother a dishrag. He hasn't given me any  
trouble, Headmaster."  
  
Dumbledore turned to Professor McGonagall.  
  
"James Potter and Sirius Black are the two more prominent members of the  
foursome. Both are lively, mischievous, and bright. Remus Lupin is more  
reserved; we all know why, of course. Unfortunately, Peter Pettigrew is  
as dumb as a box of rocks. I've heard nothing in the way of major  
complaints, however."  
  
Dumbledore sighed once again. "I've concluded that none of these boys  
have crossed the line from ordinary pranking to malicious trickery, at  
least so far. Keep an eye on all of them, however, and let me know if  
the situation changes."  
  
Both Penderdandis and McGonagall nodded, rose, and left the office.  
  
Albus turned to Fawkes, a smirk on his old face.  
  
"The old dung-on-a-stick gag! Childish but effective. My hat is off to  
young Snape!"  
  
Chuckling, he turned back to the parchments stacked up on his desk and  
began to work again in earnest.  
  
-----------  
  
Once a month in the fall and spring during Sev's first year, Hogwarts  
had what Muggle schools would call a field day. The students would  
participate in flying competitions, fencing duels, dancing contests,  
wizard duels, and Quidditch tournaments. In spite of this wealth of  
activity, however, the Marauders were just as bored as eleven-year-olds  
could possibly be.  
  
"What can we do?" Potter whined.  
  
"We could always pick on Snape," Pettigrew commented.  
  
Remus looked around. "Where's Snivelly, anyway?"  
  
"He's way over there, all by himself. What a surprise," Pettigrew  
laughed.  
  
It was true. Severus hadn't gone about making new friends at Hogwarts  
because he hadn't really known how to go about it. Unfortunately, the  
boy was just sarcastic enough to insult most people to whom he spoke. As  
a consequence, he stood alone next to the Herbology greenhouses, shading  
his eyes from the bright sunshine and watching a number of his  
classmates dancing the Tango.  
  
Sirius Black sneaked up behind Potter and Pettigrew, slapping his hands  
on their shoulders.  
  
"Gods, don't do that!" said Peter, who had just dropped his giant salted  
pretzel. He picked it off the ground and brushed it off before taking  
another bite.  
  
"Gah! How can you do that?" Remus said, shuddering.  
  
"My mum has a five-second rule. If the food's been on the floor for less  
than five seconds, it's okay to eat."  
  
The other Gryffindor boys rolled their eyes.  
  
"Guess what?" Sirius Black hissed.  
  
"What?" Potter answered. "And it better be worth the scare you gave us,  
too."  
  
"Oh, it is," Black said, his lips curling into a wide smile. "I asked  
one of the Seventh-Years to help me with an illusion spell. I've been  
practicing, and once they announce that lunch is ready, I'll show you!"  
  
---------  
  
The other three Marauders were full of anticipation. What exactly had  
Black planned for their amusement?  
  
Finally, lunch was announced.  
  
As the crowd began its push towards the Great Hall, Black raised his  
wand. He murmured an incantation and pointed it at Slytherin Tower. A  
shower of sparks shot out, tracing the outlines of something indistinct  
above that part of the Castle. This caught the crowd's attention almost  
immediately.  
  
The sparks congealed together, forming an outline of a student with an  
enormous nose. In florid flaming letters above the figure, the words  
"GREASY GIT" inscribed themselves. All four Marauders shrieked with  
laughter, backslapping one another in glee.  
  
Black looked around. He noted the nods of approval from the Gryffindor  
Seventh-Years who had helped him with the sophisticated illusion. He  
glanced at the Slytherin students, and he'd be butched if many of them  
weren't laughing as hard as the Gryffindors! Applause broke out from the  
large crowd, which was rapidly quelled as the teachers went into action  
to suppress Black's little prank.  
  
No one thought of looking for Severus Snape's reaction.  
  
"Well, that's that," Sirius said, grinning broadly. Before one of his  
teachers could do so, he dissolved the illusion with a flick of his  
wand.  
  
The Marauders received congratulations all around at lunch in the Great  
Hall. The only disparaging remark came from Professor McGonagall, who  
told them that they would be her prize pupils if they paid as much  
attention to their Transfiguration lessons as they did to their pranks.  
Sev's absence during mealtime was scarcely noticed.  
  
Instead of eating his lunch, the boy was busy plotting his revenge.  
  
----------  
  
The fencing competitions were next on the schedule. Once those were  
completed and the winners declared, the wizard duels among the Seventh-  
Years had begun when Severus reappeared, his own wand at the ready.  
  
The Slytherin boy waited until the crowd was busy watching the  
competition between Ebenezer Moore and Lavinia Lestrange. And then, he  
unfolded a small piece of parchment and took his wand from his sleeve,  
using it to scratch out a pentagram in the dirt. He spoke in a low voice  
to avoid calling unwanted attention to himself.  
  
"DRAGONS OF SPIRIT, HIGHEST OF DRAGONS AND MOST POWERFUL, BLESS THIS  
CIRCLE WITH YOUR FIRE. LET US BE ONE IN MAGICK, O DRAGONS GREAT AND  
WISE."  
  
Starting and ending in the east, Severus sprinkled the circle with a  
little jar of water that he had hidden in his robe pocket. "AIR, FIRE,  
EARTH, AND BRING POWER FORTH. WATER OF LAND AND SEA, PURIFIED BE," he  
whispered. He then poured a small amount of salt on the pentacle,  
circling it three times with his wand. "WATER, AIR, FIRE, AND HEAR MY  
DESIRE. SALT OF EARTH AND SEA, PURIFIED BE."  
  
Severus was heartened to observe that no one had seen him so far. His  
fellow students were too busy watching those two idiotic upperclassmen  
assault one another with spells Sev had learned before he was seven  
years old. Well, that was fine with him. The Slytherin pointed his wand  
at the pentacle.  
  
"BEHOLD, ALL DRAGONS AND RULERS OF DRAGONS, I AM SEVERUS SNAPE, A  
MAGICIAN WHO SEEKS DRAGON MAGICK. WITH THIS WAND IN MY HAND, I ENTER THE  
REALMS OF THE DRAGONS FOR KNOWLEDGE AND POWER."  
  
He faced the east once again. "FROM SAIRYS, RULER OF THE EASTERN DRAGONS  
FAIR, COMES NOW THE WONDROUS POWER OF AIR." Severus then faced south,  
making sure that he was still undetected. "FROM FAFNIR, RULER OF DRAGONS  
OF THE SOUTH, COMES CLEANSING FIRE FROM DRAGON MOUTH."  
  
The boy then walked around the pentagram so that he faced west. "FROM  
NAELYAN, RULER OF DRAGONS OF WEST, COMES THE POWER OF WATER, THREE TIMES  
BLEST." Moving a quarter turn, he continued his invocation. "EARTH  
GRAEL, RULER OF DRAGONS OF THE NORTH, THE POWER OF EARTH DOES NOW COME  
FORTH."  
  
Sev smiled a secret smile and drew upon the core of Dark magic he  
possessed by virtue of his father's years of instruction. "COME,  
DRAGONS! BY YOUR ALL-CONSUMING BREATH, I SUMMON YOU."  
  
He tapped the pentagram three times with his wand.  
  
"BY YOUR PIERCING GAZE, I SUMMON YOU."  
  
Another three taps.  
  
"BY YOUR MIGHTY STRENGTH, I SUMMON YOU."  
  
And three more.  
  
"BY YOUR WISDOM ANCIENT AND CUNNING, I SUMMON YOU."  
  
Three more.  
  
"BY YOUR MAGICK DEEP AND OLD, I SUMMON YOU."  
  
He gave the pentagram three more taps.  
  
"COME, DRACONIS, TO MY CALL!"  
  
A hazy ectoplasmic stream poured from the end of his wand. Grinning, he  
pointed it upward, right at Gryffindor Tower.  
  
The sudden energy shift in the air above the crowd was enough to be  
noticed by everyone present. The more sensitive students moaned deep in  
their throats, reacting to the Dark magic now swirling around above  
their heads.  
  
"Minerva!" gasped Professor Daragon. "What in Seven Hells is that?" He  
pointed toward the apparition now whirling above the top of the Castle,  
its shape seemingly coming together out of nothingness.  
  
Within the next ten seconds, it seemed that everyone forgot about the  
duel and focused on Gryffindor Tower. This gave Severus the opportunity  
to slip into a stand of bushes near the entrance of the Great Hall. All  
he had to do now was laugh himself sick when those four Gryffindor  
dipwits wet themselves over his own little piece of magickal art!  
  
The shape, now fully congealed, had become a huge silvery-green dragon.  
Its every detail was perfect, from its hundreds of scales to its curved  
toenails to the wings it now lazily unfolded. Its wingspan was easily  
the length of the Castle itself. The thing was massive!  
  
And then -- one of its claws broke the glass of one of the tower windows  
with a small "ping". A shower of broken glass fell, shattering into even  
smaller pieces once it hit the cobbled walkway. Several nearby students  
shrieked, moving away as quickly as they could.  
  
Severus frowned. An illusion shouldn't be able to do any harm! He looked  
around furtively to make sure he was still undiscovered.  
  
The dragon threw back its massive head and opened its jaws, which were  
easily three stories high. Its unearthly roar was loud enough to shatter  
the rest of the windows in Gryffindor Tower, along with every single  
pane of glass in the Herbology greenhouses.  
  
Students began to panic, the crowd breaking up in chaos and the events  
of the field day forgotten.  
  
The dragon now flapped its wings, flattening trees and people alike with  
gale-force winds. It roared again as it rose, standing up from its  
crouch and causing half of Gryffindor Tower to collapse in a mess of  
glass and masonry.  
  
Severus gulped. This really wasn't what he had in mind.  
  
And then, the dragon picked out the four Gryffindor students from out of  
the crowd. It cocked its huge head and then emitted a blast of fire at  
them, more than sufficient to have set the entire Forbidden Forest on  
fire.  
  
With his own hasty incantation Albus Dumbledore froze the firestorm into  
a veritable glacier, which then broke up into thousands of pieces of  
ice. But no matter what other spells the Headmaster used against the  
dragon, he could not dispel it.  
  
Professor Sartoris glanced round to assure himself that he was  
unobserved. It was fortunate that he knew the Dark counterspell. With a  
surreptitious wave of his own wand, he sent the creature back to whence  
it had come. His jaw clenched and his face grim, Sartoris looked around  
for Snape.  
  
And unfortunately for the boy, he located him.  
  
---------------  
  
"What happened to you then?" Asphora LaChance asked.  
  
Severus shuddered. "Well – it was the first time that Headmaster  
Dumbledore absolutely terrified me."  
  
---------------  
  
"Professor Penderdandis, what is your recommendation?" said Albus  
Dumbledore, sitting behind his desk with a frown on his face. The  
undersized Slytherin child stood in front of him, his hair nearly  
covering his face completely.  
  
"Well, Headmaster," the Slytherin Head-of-House said, "I've spoken to  
the boy and he explained that he had only meant to cast an illusion,  
like the Gryffindor boy had. He was inexperienced and failed to think  
through the ramifications if his spell went wrong. I would recommend  
that he receive the punishment you gave Mr. Black – two detentions and  
the loss of 20 House points."  
  
Dumbledore looked at Severus Snape. "Do you have anything to say, Mr.  
Snape?" he asked.  
  
Severus raised his head and looked the Headmaster in the eye, mindful  
that he needed to omit Sartoris' involvement in the incident. "I admit  
that I summoned the dragon and I dispelled it. I only cast the spell in  
the first place because Black had made me the laughingstock of the  
entire school. If he hadn't, I wouldn't be standing here now. I don't  
have anything more to say, sir."  
  
"I'm sorry, Mr. Snape, but I know a Dark spell when I see one. I won't  
ask you where you learned it. If I hadn't transfigured the fire into  
ice, Mr. Snape, we would be mourning the deaths of hundreds of students  
and teachers. I am giving you five detentions and am penalizing  
Slytherin House fifty points. Further, I will owl your father and ask  
him to meet with me immediately, for the purpose of convincing me why I  
shouldn't expel you outright."  
  
Severus went white. "Oh gods no, Headmaster! Please! Don't tell my  
father!" The boy trembled in fear. Professor Penderdandis looked at him,  
alarmed at his reaction.  
  
"I'm afraid my decision is final, Severus. Go over to Gryffindor Tower  
and ask how you might be of assistance in cleaning up the wreckage you  
created. I will summon you once your father and I have talked."  
  
The panic that Severus felt made him feel faint. His father would beat  
him to death!  
  
He turned and left the Headmaster's office as quickly as he could. He  
would not let either man see him cry.  
  
-----------  
  
"How awful!" Asphora gasped. "What happened next?"  
  
Sev dropped his head, old fear swamping him. Healer LaChance reached  
out, infusing him with calming energy until he relaxed.  
  
"I waited for the proverbial axe to fall," he said, his voice shaking.  
"And it fell hard, believe me."  
  
-----------  
  
"I appreciate the opportunity to have met with you about this matter,"  
Confutatis Maledictis Snape said to Albus Dumbledore. Both men kept  
their disdain for the other well hidden; both were old hands at keeping  
their true emotions hidden.  
  
"Not at all," the Headmaster replied, turning his gaze onto Severus, who  
stood next to his father. The child's eyes were downcast and his facial  
expression a calculated blank. "Severus, I have decided not to expel you  
at this time. However, if you use any more Dark magic at this  
institution, you will be expelled immediately. Do you understand me?"  
  
Severus nodded.  
  
His father gripped his shoulder. "Answer the Headmaster, boy."  
  
Sev raised his head. "I understand, sir," he said in a low voice.  
  
"Well then. This matter is concluded. My decision on the House points  
and the detentions stand. Good day to you, sir. Severus, you can return  
to your dormitory room once you have said goodbye to your father." And  
with that, Dumbledore stood and began to climb the stairs leading to his  
upstairs library.  
  
---------  
  
Snape Senior ordered Severus to walk with him toward Hogsmeade, where he  
intended to use the floo network to return to North Yorkshire.  
  
The path took them past the far edge of the Forbidden Forest, where  
shadows overtook the road. It was an area most people liked to rush  
through. However, it suited Snape Senior's purposes admirably.  
  
With a sudden whicker of his raven-headed cane, Sev's father cracked his  
son in the head. The child fell to the road, moaning in shock and pain.  
  
"Little bastard," Confutatis Snape snarled. "How dare you! I should kill  
you now, and I won't have to worry about getting any more messages from  
the Headmaster about your antics." He reached down and scruffed the boy,  
yanking him up. Another blow of the cane. Severus cried out, clutching  
his middle this time.  
  
"No – please, Father! Don't!"  
  
Another swish through the air and another blow. "Don't what? You know  
full well Dark wizardry is against the law. You've just exposed us to  
arrest and imprisonment, just because a Gryffindor made fun of you! How  
dare you?"  
  
The cane cracked Severus in the knees this time. With a shriek, he  
crumpled to the ground.  
  
"I'll continue to Hogsmeade without you, Severus. You are even more  
useless than I thought. You're – dangerous. Dangerous to your own  
family! I'd better not see or hear from anyone at this school about your  
conduct. Or I'll beat you to a bloody pulp, and we'll see how much Dark  
magic you can flaunt then!" Without another word, Confutatis Maledictis  
Snape made his way down the road, his raven-headed cane clicking in time  
with his footsteps on the cobblestones.  
  
His son lay facedown on the side of the road, sobbing in grief and  
terror.  
  
-----------  
  
"What happened to you then, sweetheart?" Asphora asked, tears standing  
in her eyes.  
  
"One of the centaurs from the Forbidden Forest had been watching, and  
took me to the front lawn of the Castle. I think Hagrid was the one who  
carried me in. I don't really remember – I was in too much pain to think  
clearly."  
  
Asphora sighed. "I know that you covered for Sartoris because you had  
to. Is that what you did for your father as well?"  
  
Sev nodded, the memory causing his own tears to well up. "Dumbledore was  
rightly horrified, suspecting that my father had beaten me. He  
apologized. I told him that it was nonsense because my father had  
already gone, and that two boys waylaid me to steal my money."  
  
"Did he believe you?"  
  
"Of course not," Sev sighed. "Yet he gave me the dignity of acting as if  
he had."  
  
"Still, you felt that his punishment was excessive, didn't you?"  
  
Severus nodded. "As it happened time and time again, I always got a  
worse punishment than those damned Gryffs. After all, I was a Slytherin  
– a practitioner of Dark magic – and a liar to boot." The boy wiped his  
eyes. "It hurt to know that the Headmaster thought ill of me. I always  
looked up to him, and I very much wanted to tell him the truth about my  
life."  
  
"Yes," Healer LaChance sighed. "And you would have, but for the threats  
of your father and the intimidation of Professor Sartoris. Come here,  
honey, and get a hug."  
  
The boy looked up at her gratefully, accepting the hug and the ensuing  
wave of healing energy she sent into his being.  
  
"Face the truth, Severus," Asphora said. "You weren't a bad boy, not  
ever. You were in what healers like to call a double bind. You would be  
wrong no matter which choice you made, and would get in trouble for not  
choosing at all."  
  
Crying now, Severus nodded.  
  
"Let it go, Sev," the healer whispered. "Let it go and let your wounded  
heart heal at last. And know that your Headmaster believes you and  
loves you a great deal."  
  
Sev buried his face in the hollow of her throat and wept out his old  
fear and pain.  
  
------------


	18. The Color of Peace

Chapter 18 – The Color of Peace  
  
I'm just a poor wayfaring stranger  
  
A-traveling through this world of woe.  
  
And there's no sickness, toil or danger  
  
In this bright world to which I go."  
  
- Traditional American folk song  
  
Severus Snape stayed at St. Mungo's for three more weeks, undergoing intensive counseling by healers Asphora, Sib, and Aloysius.  
  
Because of a breakthrough into a deeper and darker layer of the boy's memories, Severus went through yet another Obliviation Ceremony. He was still an abused child whose boyhood had been irrevocably blighted, but it was fortunate that this last trace of abject horror vanished from his mind. He was still a troubled young soul, but the ceremony itself and the caring people surrounding him brought further relief.  
  
---------  
  
Severus had been napping when a visitor came to see him. He would have been happy to know that the guest passed Asphora's scrutiny, but such details hardly mattered to tired boys who needed their rest in order to heal.  
  
"Hello there, dear," the visitor said, smoothing his hair from his face.  
  
Sev jerked away from the touch, as he always had.  
  
"We were so sorry to hear about what happened to you, poor child. I know that you're exhausted and you've been through a lot, but I did want to bring you this little present. Just know, Severus, that we care for you and we'll be very happy when you return to Hogwarts."  
  
Another touch – soft hands patting his thin face with total gentleness. He suppressed the urge to jerk away.  
  
He sensed love in the touch, and smiled up at her.  
  
---------  
  
Severus woke with a start. His eyes moved, taking in all the corners of the Kiddie Snuff Ward and seeing no visitors anywhere.  
  
Funny, how dreams can appear so real –  
  
Sev looked down and was shocked to see a wrapped package tucked in between his side and the bedrail.  
  
Sitting up, he first palpitated it to see if he could guess what it was.  
  
Soft. It was very soft.  
  
He put it on his lap and took a deep breath. His fingers gently undid the bow and slid under the layers of tissue paper.  
  
It was a red garment of some type.  
  
It was his Yule sweater!  
  
Much to Severus Snape's surprise, he clutched it and buried his face in it, confident that the happy memories it contained would further speed his recovery.  
  
------------  
  
The next morning, he sat with Albus Dumbledore and Asphora LaChance in the Sunny Meadow. They spent a few minutes watching the ongoing Quidditch game, which was especially spirited today.  
  
"Isn't that a new sweater, Sev?" Asphora asked.  
  
"Well – "Severus said, smoothing the red garment with his hands. "James Potter gave it to me for a Yule present, but I gave it back."  
  
"Then how did you get it?" Dumbledore asked.  
  
Severus smiled. "Mrs. Potter brought it to me. I thought it was a dream, but it was real. When I woke up, there it was!"  
  
"It makes you happy then, dear child," Albus said, smoothing the boy's long dark hair.  
  
Sev grasped the kind hand and held onto it. "It does. I don't know why. It made me happy that they were thinking of me, especially after how rotten I was to James and Lily."  
  
"I think it's clear to everyone, honey, that you were very ill when you said those things. When people get that desperate and that depressed, they frequently take it out on family and friends," Asphora said.  
  
"And I think the Potters know that," Dumbledore finished.  
  
"We have some special news for you, Severus," Healer LaChance said. "We wanted to wait and tell you here because we're not sure how you will take it."  
  
Severus frowned, his anxiety obvious in his facial expression. "Is it bad?"  
  
"We don't think so, honey," Asphora replied. "And – well – here it is. Your father was convicted of using an Unforgivable, and received the Dementor's Kiss last night."  
  
Sev was absolutely silent for a while, his face unreadable. Then he got up on his feet and took off running.  
  
Asphora began to get up to go after him, but found Albus Dumbledore's hand on her arm.  
  
"It's all right, Shonsey," he said. "He does this."  
  
-----------  
  
Severus ran and ran and ran. This place – wherever in the Southern Hemisphere it was – was lovely, no matter how far he traveled from the Sunny Meadow. He raced over open fields and past small houses; he sprinted over hills and past verdant orchards. He ran until he could run no more.  
  
He saw an apple tree and collapsed under it. He liked apple trees because he used to hide from his father in the boughs of one they had at Snape Mansion. Severus lay on his back, panting with exertion and removing the few apples that proved to be rather uncomfortable under his back.  
  
His father had been given the Dementor's Kiss. That bastard. He was good as dead. To Sev's surprise, he began to cry. That was all right; there was no one around to hear him.  
  
He lay there under the tree's cool shade, smelling its sweet apple smell, and grieving that Fate had allowed him to be born to such a monster.  
  
His father had been an evil man, and his evil nature was what led to his downfall.  
  
If he hadn't abused him, Severus wouldn't have tried to kill himself.  
  
If Severus hadn't been taken to St. Mungo's, he never would have been seen by the shaking man in the wheelchair whose testimony sealed his father's fate.  
  
Funny how Fate worked.  
  
"I'm – free," the Dark child sighed, wiping his eyes. He closed them, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the sweet smell of the ripe fruit surrounding him.  
  
Relaxing at last, Severus Snape curled over onto his side – head resting on his upturned arm – and fell into a blissful sleep.  
  
------------  
  
Three days later, Severus was discharged from St. Mungo's. When he came to pick him up, Albus Dumbledore brought him a Slytherin school robe and his school uniform to wear.  
  
"In for a penny, in for a pound," the Headmaster said. "We'll be back in time for your Potions Class if we time it right."  
  
Severus said goodbye to the other residents of the Kiddie Snuff Ward and made his farewells to Sibelius Hammer and Aloysius Bede. He clung sobbing to Asphora LaChance for quite a while.  
  
"It's not goodbye for us, dear sweet boy," she said, kissing his forehead. "I shall see you again, wait and see!"  
  
Albus and Severus disapparated and found themselves in Hogsmeade. It looked foreign to Severus, and he said so to his mentor and guardian.  
  
"Maybe you're the thing that's different, my boy," he said.  
  
Severus clung to the wizard, and Albus stopped to hold him.  
  
"I sense that something is on your mind," the Headmaster said after a little while.  
  
The Slytherin boy looked into his face. "I was thinking – when I turn eighteen, you won't be my guardian any more."  
  
"Well, Severus, that's not for another few years yet, and I think it's best to take life a day at a time, right?"  
  
Sev nodded, continuing to look in the old man's eyes, an insecure feeling still crowding his heart.  
  
They didn't call Albus Dumbledore the greatest White wizard in the world for nothing. He read the child's thought as readily as if Severus had spoken it.  
  
"I will stop being your guardian, that is true," Dumbledore replied, resting both hands on the boy's bony shoulders. "But the gods gave me a great gift when my Dark child was brought into my life. You will be my son forever."  
  
Severus clung to him again, shaking with relief and gratitude. "I love you," he said.  
  
"And I love you. You'll grow up, Severus, and you will become a guardian of the Light as well as being my son," Dumbledore continued.  
  
"I don't understand," said Severus.  
  
"You will someday, child," the old man returned. "Now kindly slow down a bit; I can't keep up with your sixteen-year-old legs!"  
  
Severus grinned, resuming their walk and turning to the old wizard. "Don't want to be late for Potions!" he said.  
  
"Quite right," Dumbledore replied, returning the boy's happy smile.  
  
--------------  
  
To say that Severus Snape created an uproar when he entered his Potions Class (where the Headmaster made his excuses to Professor Sartoris) would be an understatement.  
  
To the boy's great surprise, his fellow students crowded around him. Also to his surprise, Severus did not flinch at the many friendly pats to his head, his back, and his hands.  
  
"Here comes trouble!" Evan Ryper exclaimed, laughing.  
  
"Welcome back," said Remus Lupin.  
  
"Want to partner me today?" asked Lily Evans.  
  
Severus turned to her and the room grew quiet.  
  
"Why not?" he replied.  
  
-----------  
  
Sirius Black and James Potter stood in the row behind Severus and Lily. "Oh, great, Slithery Snapped is out of the Nuthouse at last," Black jeered.  
  
James looked at Snape curiously. The back of his robe had been twisted somehow, so that the underlayers of his school uniform were exposed to view. The Gryffindor saw just the hint of the boy's sweater. It was bright red.  
  
"Shut your head, Padfoot," Potter returned.  
  
------------  
  
Lily Evans and Severus Snape received the highest marks of the day on their potion. That made the two of them very happy. Severus was also happy that he was wearing his Yule sweater and didn't seem to mind that the Yuletide had come and gone. For the Dark child whose life had been plagued by hurt and disappointment, wearing it was like wearing friendship.  
  
For the bulk of humankind, red signified anger. For Severus Snape, however, red was the color of acceptance and peace.  
  
And another session of rock-and-pebble Quidditch and the total decimation of another Pig Cake did not seem out of the question.  
  
The End  
  
-------------------------------------------------------------  
  
The sequel – "The Best Actor in the World" – is coming soon!  
  
And now, some comments for my dear reviewers -- I hope you all enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. My next stories will have more twists and turns than the Mississippi River!  
  
Dearest darling daughter Sarah – I freely admit you got me started on those Harry Potter books. Do I appreciate it? Does a hen want a flag? You know I'm just being sma'at.  
  
Roy, dear heart, thank you for all the encouragement and support you've given me.  
  
And dear Ilmare, who inspired me to try a little Snape-angst writing myself – you are a terrific writer and person. Many thanks!  
  
Barbara Kennedy – What can I say to such a faithful reader and reviewer? Hope the story and drawings are up to snuff! You are so special!  
  
Catmint – Dear Catmint. The wind beneath my wings! You make writing a joy!  
  
Moro the Wolf God – Bless your heart, kiddo. I so enjoy hearing from you.  
  
Logospilgrim – Mysterious and wonderful lady! I'm so happy that you like my stories. What a compliment that is!  
  
Silverthreads – I think I've gotten a few more of those writing this tale (laughs) – your comments have helped me keep going – I so appreciate it.  
  
Marauder3Moony – Your comments are always delightful, and I'm always happy to read them! The one about Lucius absolutely cracked me up.  
  
Savvy the Pen-Nameless – I came to look forward to reading what you had to say. What a flair for the language you have, my dear! Thanks very much!  
  
Mooze – Wow, you have really been so good to me and such a support! Hope you keep reading and reviewing! I always like to hear from you.  
  
Tall Oaks – there's nobody like you, my friend. I swear you must have a touch of the psychic – you are that close to how I write the way I do and why. Your reviews are a deep inspiration and your support has been absolutely wonderful. And btw – you will LOVE where I am going with this fanfic series....but you'll have to waaaaaaait..... ;p  
  
Dragonmaster Kurai, Freakish Lemon, Cat, excessivelyperky, Nsnape, MistressCoCoLoVeR and my other dear readers – Thank you thank you thank you!  
  
Now, to answer a few questions some of you had.....  
  
I'm not Wiccan myself. It seems to have become a convention to use it in Snapey Angst stories, at least the ones I've read, so I just jumped into the fray.  
  
"Tenebria" Snape was named from the Latin for "hanging on" or "clinging on" – which is certainly what she did to that idiotic husband of hers. Tsk, woman. What a cheesebrain!  
  
I went to New Hampshire recently and had myself a pistachio ice cream binge. Woohoo! Now you know how it came to be Sevie's favorite flavor!   
  
Whatever happened to Martis Vox? Well, my best pal Tess is busily creating her next magnum opus. Fear not! Our fearless Minoan heroine will be back!  
  
For those of you who are unfamiliar with the song "Wayfaring Stranger", email me and I can send you the url to a great site that automatically plays it. wouldn't let me type in the bleeping web address. Ah well!  
  
And now, my darlings – did you like the ending? 


End file.
